Lost And Found
by TripperMD
Summary: Sometimes she wonders if one can possibly lose their way by doing the right thing. AU. College!Brittana
1. Prologue: Collide

_Disclaimer: don't own Glee, I'm just taking two cheerleaders for a nice trip._

* * *

"This party sucks"

"Well, it's not really our fault, I mean, okay, none of our friends made it, but... It's not a lame party, just a different kind of party."

You understood what he was saying. Being at a party where you don't know anyone meant "you can be anyone as well". And that idea, at that moment, seemed to satisfy you more than anything. Yea, you could make it. Even if just for one night, maybe, at some point, you'd figure all of your shit out. If you could make it. Just for tonight.

"I need to get drunk"

"Thought you were getting there already"

Point taken. Your glass is full, actually. You take a sip. Another. You say screw it and soon as you know the next five glasses are empty and you look slightly dizzy.

You'd say dizzy enough.

It's time to walk around, looking at everybody and nobody at the same time. People are dancing and talking in small groups, which seems a pretty obvious choice when you attend to a party where you know people. They look at you like you're lost and drunk enough to let everybody notice, but you're not here to give any fucks. Not today. You walk around the pool, knowing that its emptiness only means that people are not drunk enough to stop caring about the cold. You can't really tell if it's a good sigh.

You decide that you need another drink. You get to the bar and ask for a shot. The guy behind the counter is as drunk as you and he just laughs, saying that the bottle of tequila is out there and you should look for a guy named Jeff. That name will be forgotten soon enough, so you settle with vodka anyway.

"Will you ever leave the bar?" You ask him, suddenly smirking. He smirks back and put his phone out of his pocket, giving a look at the time, you suppose.

"20 minutes or so", he replies, touching your shoulder just for a second. You let him, but you don't really know why. Wasn't this night about something else? You look around and see Sam glaring at you. The guy takes his hand off you and hands your drink. You just leave without saying another word.

When you decide you're drunk enough to dance alone, Sam is already at the dance floor, at the corner, moving effortless with the beat. You do the same and let loose, admitting for the first time in ages that you're having a real good time.

Of course, you don't know anybody here and there's nothing you couldn't do, because there won't be news about it tomorrow. The thought is so seductive that makes you smile. For the first time, they're the ones who don't know who you are, and you do (well, kinda). It seems right in a way it's not really supposed to be.

"Hey," a hand touches your back. It's the guy from the bar. "I just left", he says, with a goofy smile. You smile back and your stomach turns awkwardly. This is not how things were supposed to turn out tonight.

Sam is still dancing, but now there's a girl next to him and he's dancing like a 40-year-old stripper. The laugh gets stuck in your throat because the guy is still talking to you and you're trying hard to pretend you're listening. Only when he grabs your wrist and starts moving, you seem to understand what's really going on.

You wish you didn't.

"Here", he puts you against a wall in what appears to be the garage, but smaller. You try to make yourself comfortable, but everything seems so wrong and you don't know if you're sick because you're drunk or because he's kissing your neck eagerly.

You don't say anything when his hand touches your boob lightly at first, then with purpose.

"What's your name?" He breathes against your ear, and it doesn't make you shiver at all. Like you knew it wouldn't. His hand that's not on your boob moves and cups your ass. You stay like that, against the wall, with your arms loosely around his shoulders.

"Santana", you say, your voice shaking, trying to decide while he grabs the hem of your shirt just to slide his hand inside it. It seems dumb to not move your hands, so you use one to grab his neck and push him towards you to a kiss. It's sloppy and you regret almost immediately, because he shoves him tongue against your teeth in a hurry you don't get. So you stop.

"I'm Dave", he says, guessing that was the reason you stopped. You nod slowly, getting sicker every second. But you know how boys work. You remember your High School well enough to say that they won't let you leave them high and dry.

You want to leave so badly.

The decision is made as you grab his ass with both hands and your hips met. He makes a weird sound and you already know this is it. You reach for his pants and underwear, and they're both down without any resistance.

Pathetic.

You don't even look before you start stroking it slowly with one hand (you think you're sick enough). His mouth opens a little and you do think you're going to throw up before his orgasm. You increase the rhythm, asking yourself how you got yourself in this, and why you did this if this night was about being someone else.

You don't even notice his hands wondering down to your pants.

He looks at you with a question behind his eyes, and you look back for a second before looking away, and for some reason you'll never, ever understand, he takes it as a yes and pull your pants down.

Wait.

"You're so hot", he says, his voice weird and breathless as you continue your stroking thing. He cups your now bare ass again, with both hands, and your hips meet again. He reaches your hand and moves it away. "I wanna touch you".

Again: wait.

You don't say a thing because, really, there's nothing to say. You see the sweat on his forehead and close your eyes because now you feel a finger rubbing you down there, searching. "Can I..."

He's not waiting for an answer. You know that when he pins you further against the wall and you feel your hips touching further as he gets inside. His breathing is heavy, so is yours, for very different reasons. He thrusts once, twice, until he's panting. Then he takes a while. "We should stop. I don't have a condom."

God, you're so thankful.

He looks frustrated, and you can't tell if the condom thing is really the reason of it. You look at him and he seems to understand why you are looking, and take few steps back, enough for you to put yourself together.

"Maybe later, we..."

"Yea", you lie with a weak smile, and let him walk you back to the party.

* * *

You see Sam when you walk back to the party, near the bar, talking to a few people. Facing him is the last thing you want to do now, but judging by the way he's looking at you, you never had a choice. So you grab a drink, and make sure it's a strong one. He meets you halfway back.

"Where were you?" You don't think he wants to know the answer. You just shrug, avoiding his eyes.

He whispers something that sounds like "damn, Santana", but you can't figure.

You don't realize there's someone talking to you until she pokes you lightly, shaking her hand in front of your eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, giggling. It's the girl who was dancing with Sam before.

Shrug. "Yea, totally. I'm not even drunk, what's with the vodka in this place?"

"I know! I mean, I had some tequila just a few minutes ago, but even so, my body is fighting pretty hard to stay sober."

"Resistance is useless" Sam half shouts, with an impression voice. She laughs next to you and you do, too, just because her laugh is such a nice sound.

"True", she states, turning back to you with a smile.

"So, I don't know who you are", you try to look offended, frowning playfully.

"Brittany", the smile never leaves her face. You watch as she plays with the white suspenders she's using, sliding her hands up and down, distracted. "Brittany S. Pierce".

"Santana Lopez", you shake hands and you think it's funny, because, really, who does that?

"You live here? I mean, you go to college here?"

"Yea, me and Sam here", you look for him to punch him shoulder as a joke, but he's nowhere to be seen. Damn, Trouty. "I'm in Med School at Berkeley, so..."

She seems genuinely surprised. "Med School? Nice. I'm a Dance Major, at Berkeley, too".

You can tell she is a dancer just by the way she stands. She moves her hands while she speaks in a fluid way that can't be mistaken.

"I don't see you around much", she continues the small talk, still looking at you searching for something.

You don't know what she's looking for.

"Yea, hm, I..." She's making you stutter and you don't really know if it's because you're drunk, because you're naturally shy and can't deal with people much, or something else. "I don't go out much, you know"

"C'mon, Santana, she'll think you're boring", Sam cuts in and you can't hate him more now. As if you're not feeling awkward enough for both of you. "Which she is, by the way".

Brittany just laughs lightly and pushes Sam playfully. You can't figure why she is so comfortable with the whole conversation thing and you're like, sweating your ass off to put two or three words together. She seems to notice you fidgeting, because she's looking at you, looking at Sam and frowning. You want to say there's nothing between you two, just because it's true and nothing else, but you're paralyzed for some reason.

"I hafta pee", she deadpans, like it's obvious. Sam mutters ok and she passes right by you whispering a 'be right back' and giving you a peck right on the lips.

You gasp. Like, twice. And you look around; your thoughts are grabbing your feelings by the balls and making everything spin. You feel dizzy and you want to askwhat just happened but you're so afraid it's impossible to speak.

But Sam is right there and he seems to know the right stuff to say.

"Hey. Hey, Santana", he grabs your shoulders with both hands and look straight in your eyes. "It's okay. Don't freak out. Hey. Look at me." You don't, you're terrified. You look everywhere, except at him. He just shrugs. "Nobody knows you here, remember? It's fine. It is. Don't... Oh boy. Don't cry. Please. Breathe. She doesn't even kn..."

"I'm fine", you manage to say. "I just need another drink, so I can..."

"Yea", he says, quickly, moving to the bar and grabbing your wrist like he thinks you're going to run or pass out. The second is more like it.

Brittany is back and you don't realize it until you see Sam whispering something in her ear and you can't say if you're curious about it. Maybe he's explaining things to her, and the thought alone makes you shiver with fear. You want him away from her now. Because... because... You can explain stuff. Right?

"Would you... hm, God, this is hard" she's also stuttering and that makes you a little better. "Come with me, yes? I mean, please. If you want to. I mean..."

Your mind is a battlefield. You can hear gunshots and screams and everything is spinning in a way that has nothing to do with the drinks you had. Brittany is not looking at you, but at your shoes, apparently. She's playing with her suspenders again, but in a nervous way. You glance at Sam, and he's so tense he may turn into stone in a few minutes. He wants you to be okay. And you want to be okay, too.

You know what's going to happen. And how long you're expecting it to happen. It's like a final test, a challenge. Because you have to know, right? You can't just go with the flow and think you're like everybody else. There were signs and you... You don't know what your head is doing now, but you never thought about those things as signs until you're facing it openly, like now.

At some point you realize the drink in your hands. And people around you. Brittany is waiting for you to answer her. She looks confused. You look around just one last time, your eyes at Sam again. "Whoever you want to be", you don't know if he said it or your mind is playing with you, but you can hear it loud and clear.

Just like your answer.

"Yes."

* * *

You walk back to the same place you were with Dave, and you don't like the idea. It looks dirty, and you don't want things to go like that with Brittany. God, you're already thinking about how you want things to go with her. You're thinking about things. Going. With her.

It's too much. You stop walking.

"Is something wrong, Santana?" You like the way she speaks. She cares about you in a way she shouldn't. You don't know each other. Yet, she waits. She doesn't want to force things through. She wants you to meet her halfway.

And you think you want that, too.

"No, it's okay", you manage to smile, assuring her. "But… Can we go somewhere else?"

She doesn't even blink. "Of course".

You find yourself in the back of the house, near the pool.

"Don't worry; they gave me the key and I locked the pool access. Said it was to prevent any kind of accident with drunk people and stuff. Really clever."

She read your mind and answered the question you didn't have guts to make. You don't think you have guts to do anything now. She sits by the pool and makes a gesture for you to sit by her side. You do.

You kind of expect her to jump at you, but she doesn't. She just swings her feet on the water surface. Neither of you speak for a long time, but it's a comfortable silence. You feel like you're getting to know her just by the things she's not saying or doing. It's new. And you like it.

You turn to look at her, your knees brushing slightly. "I'm sorry".

She holds your gaze, but her expression is really soft. "What? Why? No, don't be."

Don't cry in front of her, don't cry in front of her, don't… Oh, well, shit.

"I just… Damn, Brittany, I'm r-really s-sorry. You thought I… We-"

Brittany just smiles. You can't tell if it's a sad smile, but it makes you feel guilty and the urge of just hug her or hold her hand makes your legs shake a bit. You can't look at her again, so you don't. She doesn't come any closer, but you hear the sound of her feet moving against the water. Slowly and patiently.

You caught yourself thinking that just maybe you got damn lucky for finding her. It kills you that you're making her sad because of your insecurities.

Now you're just sitting next to her and sobbing in silence (you don't know if you're drunk or confused, that's the hardest part). Brittany is not looking at you and youdon't think she'll speak something so soon. It's kinda frustrating, but you're grateful. You were waiting for an outburst.

"Are you crying?" She asks, and you feel her hand touching yours for a moment. It's soft and delicate and makes you feel safe, like she's got you. Suddenly she realizes what she's doing and let go of your hand. There's an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry", she says in a small voice. Like she's overstepping.

She's not.

You grab her hand and put it back in place. You smile at your own boldness. Brittany seems surprised, but remains in silence. Her touch is warm and familiar.

"What did Sam told you?" You can't not to ask. It's killing you that she may be with you now just because she feels guilty for kissing you (sort of) or for another reason involving pity.

She sighs. "He said you panicked when I kissed you before, and that I should take it easy, because he didn't want you to freak out over this".

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing. It's not his place to tell." You think it's the truest thing you've ever heard tonight. "I should be sorry for kissing you, but I'm not", she smiles. "I don't intend to surprise you again, though. Can I ask you a question?"

She can ask all the questions, for all that you care. You nod.

"Why are you here tonight?"

It's a fair question and you don't know how to answer. So you don't. You look at her, and your hands, at her again, then at the pool, speechless. You shrug and release your breath.

"I don't think you need help with figuring stuff out, Santana." You know she's right. "I do think you're afraid because you already have. It's like… When someone asks you a question they already know the answer, so you can't lie and you know they won't like when you tell them what they know. Does it even make sense?"

You smile because it doesn't, but you get it anyway.

"You are a very smart person, Pierce", you tease, turning around to face her. She smiles at you like it's a big surprise you said that.

"Wish I could say I hear that all the time", she says, but there's no hint of sadness in her voice. "But thank you." She releases your hand again and gets up. "We should get back".

Why does it feel like someone popped your bubble?

"Brittany…"

"You can tell Sam you think I'm an awesome kisser and that we had a really good time." She smirks you can feel yourself blushing.

At one moment she's unlocking the door. In the next, your hand is against it. "Don't go", it's almost a whisper, because you're not feeling so brave anymore. "Not yet."

Brittany looks confused. Your fingers are grabbing her wrist maybe a little tighter than you should, but she doesn't move. She waits.

"You don't have to-", your hand skates until you grab hers and she stops talking. She's sure you have no idea of what you're doing, but she's not rushing anything and you're glad. The hand that's not grabbing hers is cupping her cheek; the skin is soft and warm. Brittany's eyes are closing and you don't know if there's anything else you want – need – to do now.

Kissing her is by far the boldest thing you've ever done. Brittany doesn't move for a while and you think that maybe you're doing something wrong, but then you bite her lower lip gently and suddenly she's on fire, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, spinning you around so your back are against the door, instead of hers. To say your legs are shaking is an understatement. Brittany seems to sense it and keeps you as steady as she can, her lips moving slowly against yours after her little explosion, her other hand never leaving yours. You don't think that's nearly enough, but again, you don't really know what you're doing. Right now, you just can't stop.

Apparently Brittany can, 'cause she does. Her hand leaves your waist to meet your hand on her cheek, tracing it softly like it's going to break. Like you're going to break. She opens her eyes slowly and when you look at them, it's so beautiful you gasp. She notices and blushes, and you need to give her a small kiss just because she's adorable and you feel like you can.

You don't know what your brain is doing anymore, but, for the first time, you're happy.

* * *

Brittany guides you back to the edge of the pool and sits beside you again, her fingers touching yours lightly, just like her feet are doing with the water.

She's testing you reaction.

"Are you okay?" She finally asks, her voice just above a whisper. You look at her and her eyes are so damn blue and bright that makes you forget the answer.

It's so much for you to take. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it is, and you feel yourself beginning to panic, thinking about your mom's speeches about people pretending to be someone they're not, about being honest with yourself; then you remember how her voice twisted when she talked about her gay friend, how she talks like a guy and how wrong it must be to live with another woman like that. And all the times you and her talked about sexuality issues like being gay is a fucking joke and she just ended the conversation with a strong "I'm glad you think that way", like you'd go to hell for thinking otherwise. You don't know if you're not going after tonight.

You think about junior high, when all your best friends seemed to mean so much more for you than your boyfriends, they always said it didn't make any sense. You think about high school, when kissing and doing stuff with boys gave you an adrenaline rush, like you were breaking a thousand rules every time. But the rush didn't last long and you always found yourself looking guilt and wanting to get away somehow.

Finally you think about your future. People will find out you are… Whatever you are. Will you be a bad doctor because of it? You'll have to work harder and harder because you'll be alone when everybody figures out. People can be cruel, even when you're working your ass off just for the sake of saving their lives, they'll think you're not worth, and… Are you, actually? You don't even know, but...

"Santana" Brittany calls you softly, noticing you're not answering. She's fidgeting like she's sorry for interrupting a private conversation, still keeping a comfortable distance between you. "Do you… Want me to leave?"

You reach for her hand again. "Stay", you almost beg and she nods, not saying another word.

She waits several minutes before speaking again, and when she does, you feel your heart shrink a little.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about today"

Your voice is weak. "Why?"

She pulls you just a little closer, so your shoulders are touching. She's looking forward at the pool while you're studying her expression carefully. "People", she starts, "they're… Not so nice sometimes…"

You start to reply, but she cuts you. "I know you're tough, Santana. But do you have to go through it just to prove it? I think… If I can keep you away from that just by shutting my mouth, there's no reason I shouldn't do it. Does it make sense?"

"Yea", you breathe, smiling at her.

"We know you'll have to deal with it sooner or later, but… I won't forgive myself if I took your figuring out stuff time. It's…" she pauses and sighs, like she's shaking off something bad. "It's not cool."

You understand. You're safe for now, but you won't be safe forever. You don't say that out loud, though. Brittany is playing with her suspenders again and you find yourself looking at her and feeling a mixture of gratitude and something that can be relief or… You don't really know, but it feels alright.

"So you don't kiss and tell, Ms. Pierce?" You decide to joke, 'cause, yea, what else you can do anyway?

The sound of her laugh makes your heart twice as big. She turns and looks at you, eyes sparkling.

"I usually don't", she shrugs. "But if I did, I'd totally brag about kissing you to pretty much every person I'd meet at the street", she winks and you gasp again.

You're so mesmerized you don't even notice when she gets up and offers you a hand. "C'mon doc, cat got your tongue?"

You grab her hand and answer without even blinking. "More like you did"

She walks you at the door and opens it after stealing a kiss. "I'm sorry" she whispers after breaking the kiss, pressing her thumb against your lower lip with a goofy smile.

"Don't be", you smile. You want to reach for the tip of her nose, but the height difference allows you to reach just the corner of her mouth. "You're such a gentlewoman, Brittany".

You both laugh when she opens the door and you sneak back to the party. She grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. "Thank you for tonight, Miss Lopez", she says, in a formal tone. You can see she's holding a laugh and you do as well. "It was awesome!" she breaks the serious mood and throws a fist in the air in a victory sign. You both laugh hard.

"Dork", your smile falters and your voice is just a whisper. "I will see you again, right?"

"Don't worry about that", she lowers her head and kiss you cheek. "Berkeley is not that big."

You watch her go with a goofy smile. You really hope she's right.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading, mistakes aside (sorry, btw!), hope you like it. See you guys soon.  
****TripperMD.**


	2. Chapter 1: Sober

Berkeley really isn't big. You found yourself in front of Zellerbach Playhouse _again_, and you don't even keep track of how much time you've spent there in the last two weeks. You don't know why you're still doing it.

Of course you know, but the point is denying it, right?

You sit in front of the benches by the stairs with your coffee and notebook, trying to read anything that may help you with the week's case. You can't really focus as you hear steps and doors opening and closing all the time, but you can't just throw your duties away.

Suddenly it's like you have a lot to lose.

It's pointless. What the hell are you expecting? She'll see you outside and ask things like "what are you doing here?", you'll stutter like a broken record and just walk away, feeling stupid and wishing you never met her. Maybe she won't ask, but what would you say? "I was in the neighborhood"? What do you even want from her?

Still, you keep coming back here like something magic is going to happen.

You're 22, for God's sake, you shouldn't believe in magic.

You shrug, finishing your already cold coffee and hide your face in your hands, like you don't know what to do with yourself.

It's pretty accurate.

* * *

"You come here a lot, don't you?"

"Are you like, stalking me, Trouty?"

He shrugs. "I work here, Santana."

"And I buy my coffee here. What's your point again?"

He sighs. Sam is texting you non-stop since the party and you're avoiding him like a bill. You know what he wants and you're not giving him anything until you figure something that puts your head at ease. It may take a while.

"You can't avoid me forever, you know."

"Look. I had the crappiest day ever", you say, rubbing your temple and closing your eyes painfully. "No, scratch that. I had the crappiest _week_ ever. Can't you just knock it off and bring me coffee so I can go home and spend another night without a minute of sleeping because I'm a fucking Med student and that's what I do?"

You feel sorry for him. He's your best friend and you're treating him like shit because you can't deal with anything without breaking everything and everybody in the process – including yourself. You're looking down when you hear him coming back with your order, sitting next to you on the couch, taking his apron off and facing you.

"You're doing it again", he sounds so sad. You look at him and the way he's looking at you almost makes you cry. He's running a hand through his hair and it looks like he wants to speak something, but nothing comes out. You know the feeling.

Suddenly you're so fucking tired.

"I'm sorry. It's just stressful and my teacher said we-"

"We're not putting enough effort. I know. I fucking know, you always say the same stuff every time you have a problem", you try to reply it's not it, but he raises his hand and makes you stop. "Don't use your career as a shield, Santana. Remember High School, when you said you were having a hard time at the cheerleading squad every time you had a fight with your father?"

You shrug. "Coach Sylvester was a bitch, Sam. I'm sure you rem-"

"This is about the party, isn't it?"

You freeze.

"Are you serious right now, Trouty?" You try to use a sarcastic tone in your voice, but you end up looking cornered anyway. "I don't even remember it."

He looks outside for a second and gets up. You release your breath as he goes behind the counter and grabs his backpack. "Right. I'm taking you home."

His tone is final and you don't say anything.

* * *

Your place's never been so messy. Thereare papers on the floor, open books, dishes on every plain surface available and more glasses than you remember having.

"Holy crap"

Yup. Sam's a wise guy.

"Like I said", you grab an ashtray and hides it before he sees. You feel your pockets to check if your cigarettes are still safe. "Crappiest week ever."

"I miss your floor, you know" he jokes, grabbing some papers with some statistics. You don't remember half of things you write; it's just an interesting placebo effect.

"There's beer on the fridge. Want some?"

Talking about placebo effect…

"I'm fine" he continues searching your mess. "But you might need some if we're going to talk about stuff."

You grab a beer and throw yourself at the couch, wishing you could just bury yourself in it and disappear to, you don't know, Wonderland or something. You feel the other side sinking and brace yourself because that will hurt for sure.

"Can you tell me what happened? You left with Brittany and-"

Hearing her name makes you shiver and when you feel the warmth reaching your cheeks you know that's trouble. Luckily the lights are dim and Sam can't see you blushing. You zone out for a second remembering when she said her name for the first time, reaching for your hand and shaking it like you were adults in a very important business meeting. It makes you smile.

"Santana, are you even listening?"

Busted.

"You wanna know what happened?" you spat, getting up all of a sudden. He looks at you in a way that says "finally", and you're glad your act is working fine. "We went to the pool and just talked about silly and funny things. I asked her what you guys were talking about and she told me about the fucking clever answer she gave you and whoa, snap, Sammy. Bet ya didn't see that one coming, did ya?"

You don't know why you're so angry. You feel like he's putting you against a wall and pointing a gun at your face. It's so fucking terrifying. As if you weren't scared enough with, well, _everything_ _else._ Right now you want to yell and hide at the same time, because you can't remember that night without feeling overwhelmed and if he'll make you go through this again, you're so not doing it without releasing at least part of your tension.

"Then", you continue, walking around the coach. Sam looks confused, with his arms crossed across his chest, bracing himself. "She said we needed to leave. And we didn't need to do anything because you said I was so fucking scared. Why did you say that, Sam? She was feeling bad because you talked to her like she was a monster. Why would you do that?"

He gasps. You're so proud of yourself because you managed to make it about what he said instead of what you did. You take a seat again, crossing your legs and arms, arching an eyebrow waiting for an answer. His mouth is opening and closing and he's looking everywhere except at you. It takes almost a second for him to recover.

"You _were_ terrif-"

"I SAID I WAS FINE!" You're shouting for the wrong reason and your self-control is on the edge. Sam looks perfectly calm now that you're losing it. You want to grab him by the shirt and just shake him until he feels as dizzy as you do, but you can't. So you keep talking and walking around. "You're not my fucking brother. I don't need help. And look at me while I'm talking to you", you throw the empty beer on the floor. "I kissed her, right before we left. And you know what? I was so freaking drunk I can't even tell if it was good or not. Just like at Cheerleading Camp. There, that's it. Are you happy now? Will you stop creating scenarios in which I kiss the girl and suddenly everything makes sense and a fucking rainbow bolt strikes me right in the face?"

"I'm sorry, Santana", it's almost a whisper, but you hear it anyway. He looks so small and you feel so, so bad. "I was worried, because you said you were confused, and I thought I could… I mean, Brittany seemed a nice girl and… Shit, it's so fucked up, I…"

Shit. You feel like you just kicked a dog and he came back licking your foot. It's so painfully strong your legs start shaking and you have to sit. You manage to sit on the floor, embracing your legs as Sam continues mumbling nonsense and looking as lost as you've been.

"Sammy", you call, softly, burying your head between your knees. He stops talking and you hear him sitting next to you and feel his arm around your shoulder.

"I'm just worried", his hand strokes your hair slowly. "I'm always worried. I thought… I thought you'd figure it out, you know, after. I thought that would be the answer you've been looking for. But now… I don't know what the question is."

You can't lift your head because lying feels so damn heavy now. You don't know when you became this fucked up. It's not the Brittany thing (her name is the only sound in your head that doesn't sound like a horn), that doesn't feel wrong at all. It's everything else.

"I'm sorry", you say, and you don't realize you were crying until he reaches you cheek. "I didn't mean it."

"I know."

"You know when you start doing things on automatic mode, like it's everything fine and you don't need to think about it?" He nods. "I finished High School with a bunch of acceptance letters. Co-captain of the Cheerleading squad. Dating the quarterback. Prom Queen at Senior Prom." You take a breath and snort. "Kicked Pre-Med right in the balls, Dad was so freaking proud. I was doing every fucking thing right."

"At some point, when things were getting harder, I stopped a bit. And I started to think about everything. That moment in the movies, you know? When the hero makes questions and realizes his life is just bullshit?"

"And what did you find out?"

"I don't know", you shrug, like it's that simple. "I keep trying convincing myself I know what I'm doing and what'll happen at the end, but the truth is that I don't. I'll just… Wake up, go to class, study hard, graduate, work, save people, go home and sleep. I'm hoping it'll be enough, even though I know it won't be. 'Cause there's something I'm missing. I just can't figure out what."

"What happened at the party, Santana?" You're so tired that the shiver of fear you felt before isn't there anymore. He notices. "What _really_ happened?"

"I felt calm. I can't really describe, but that's the closest I can get. It was like one day, when my father was on call and I was with him. This guy came after a car crash; the heart rate monitor was crazy fast because he was collapsing and my father was doing everything to save him. When he did something right, the sounds slowed down. My shoulders were so tense, and I just realized it when I released them."

"What did Brittany say?"

"Just that she wouldn't tell anyone about it because I needed time to process. I don't think time is going to help me to process anything."

"Why?"

"I was better when I didn't know there was something wrong. Time will help me, yes, but it'll help me forgetting, not processing."

"Is that what you want?"

You shrug. "It's easier."

"That's not an answer."

"Then I don't have one."

* * *

You finish your last cigarette pack in frenzy. Your hands are shaking almost as much as your legs and a distant part of you is saying you can't keep doing it because you won't survive long enough to move to San Francisco and become a doctor.

Sometimes you wonder if that's the only thing that keeps you moving.

You know it is.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud ring. You reach your phone and almost gasp when you see the name on the screen.

"Quinn?" Her breathing is erratic on the other side. You frown. "What's wrong?"

"Hey, Santana", she fakes happiness, but her voice is too weak and you know her too well to buy it. "It's been a while."

"That's an understatement, Fabray, it's been almost two fucking years", you're _so_ worried. "Are you okay?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Holy shit, you're pregnant again."

She laughs with no humor at all. "Stop being bitchy, Santana."

"Can't really help it", you shoot back, smirking. "Now tell aunt Tana what's bothering you."

"I don't know how to begin…"

"Don't come with 'I don't know how to begin', for fuck's sa-"

"I met this girl and-"

"Wait, did you say 'girl'?" You laugh like a crazy person. There's no way. No fucking way. It must be some fucked up joke.

"Would you mind letting me finish? Why are you laughing?"

"No… Please, please finish", you can't control yourself and you don't even know why you're laughing so much. Quinn sounds as scared as you sound, that's not funny at all.

She starts talking about her freshman year after undergrad, when she spent most time on the library because college life scared the shit out of her and she didn't want to get pregnant or something just as messed up like that. You can't help but laugh like crazy because that's so not the Quinn you know. Then she talks about a girl named Rachel that was always at the same library. Her voice changed when she said her name, and when the reason behind it hits you it makes you gasp.

"I thought she worked there or something. One day, I asked her about a book for my class and she told me she was a student like me. I was so embarrassed that I asked her to grab a coffee with me just to make up for it. I didn't realize why I really asked until later, when we were at this nice Café near the campus and she asked me if it was a date. I spilled half of my coffee at my favorite dress."

"Quinn, I…" You're speechless.

"I know I should've called before", she states, like she doesn't know how to deal with you after what she told you. "I thought it would be better for me to stay at the Yale bubble, I needed to… Figure things out with Rachel and… I needed to tell you, because it's a big deal and you've been my best friend for years, but…"

You feel betrayed. You called her so many times, and not to catch up; you called because you were fucking lost, drunk and depressed, needing your best friend and Sam was a freshman with his own problems. She didn't pick up the phone because she was fooling around with a girl.

"I couldn't call you and not mention it, you know? I needed to be ready to tell you. It's a big deal. We're dating for a while now."

"Wait, you're _dating_? As in 'Quinn Fabray having a _girlfriend_'? What the actual fuck?"

"It happened, Santana!" Now she sounds pissed. "You don't get a say on things like this, you know. It's like a lightning bolt, it strikes you."

"Shit, you're getting all sappy", you break the tension and starts laughing again. She laughs with you and tell something about you being a bitch again. "Yea, it's nice to know you're happy and you're not getting pregnant again anytime soon, but… Why are you telling me this? I mean, you called late at night, after two years like, out of the fucking map, just to tell me you got yourself a girlfriend? That's a little… No. Wait."

"Santana…"

"Sam. Sam called you. Didn't he?"

You can hear Quinn's brain working, like she's putting thoughts together carefully to say them to you and not to break anything. She knows you're pissed because Sam's taking care of your life again and you don't like it. Quinn's been away for a long time, she doesn't know you anymore.

"Please, don't be mad at him. He's trying to help."

"Do you actually know what's going on here, Quinn? Or he just told you I'm a mess lately and he doesn't know how to help anymore?"

Her silence tells you that it was exactly what he said.

"He told me about the girl", Quinn says in a small voice. "Let's catch up, shall we? It's been a while and I've missed you, S."

She's got to be kidding.

"Quinn, it's freaking 3 am. Are you high or something?" You run your fingers through your hair and walk to the fridge to get another beer. Sam is unbelievable.

"I'm just worried about you."

"Well, you're two fucking years late, dammit!" You spat. "You should have answered my calls, when… You know what? Never mind. You don't even know. I'm hanging up now; go back to your girlfriend."

"It's easier to say you don't know what you're doing, isn't it?" She starts to say, confidence making her voice almost scaring. It's like a dare. You know her game. Still, she gets you every single time. "Well, I think you do, Santana. You've just found something you didn't know you were looking for, but now you can't not to see, can you?"

"What are you-"

"It's terrifying because you don't know how you're going to say it out loud, but you've already said it to yourself. Keeping it inside won't make it disappear, you know?"

You can't speak.

"Look, you don't need to tell me anything. I got it." You're sure she does. "Calm down and stop being so harsh with yourself, it's not your fault. Take it easy, don't lock yourself at home with alcohol and cigarettes like I know you're doing", you scoff. "I mean it, Santana. You're going to be a fucking doctor, you can't tell your patients what to do when you do those things with yourself."

"Quinn, you have no-"

"Oh, I have no idea? Seriously?" She's laughing at you and you feel pathetic. You are pathetic. "C'mon, grow up. Stop treating your friends like we're clueless. We know you."

"You're overreacting, Q, I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Stop giving Sam a hard time. He's just a boy, he doesn't know how to help, but he sure cares about you. You're scaring him", she continues with the lecture and her words are making you sink further and further on your coach. There's an army of little people running inside your brain, beating your skull with hammers. Your throat is dry, but you know Quinn doesn't want to hear you speaking anyway. "And please, if you think it's going to be good for you, call the girl."

She takes a deep breath, and you know it's over.

"Thank you, Quinn", you whisper, because you don't trust your voice right now.

"You're going to be okay, S." You don't know that and she doesn't either, but you want to believe her so badly. "I know I'm late, and I'm sorry. But I'm here now. We got your back, promise."

You don't say anything and just hang up. You sleep on the couch, covering your head with a pillow until you can't breathe. The sun is rising and even though you didn't sleep, you found yourself feeling a little better.

Quinn just gave you a map.

* * *

Things are better, you can't deny it. Quinn's been calling you often, Sam stopped worrying about you because he thinks Quinn solved your problem, whatever it was, you got enough sleep to clear your apartment and pay attention to your classes.

It's that time of the semester everybody disappears for tests, auditions and stuff like that. You find yourself at the library with the patient write-ups you need to deliver, enough books to make a fortress around you and lots of coffee and energy drinks. You feel like you could use a break, but your head is on automatic-pilot and you know that if you stop, you'll never want to finish and you don't want to face your preceptor if you don't pass this subject.

"That's Clinical Skills 3?" You hear a male voice behind you. He makes you jump but he doesn't notice, too focused on your papers. "Stevens?"

"Swartzberg", you reply, assuming he's asking about the teacher. "There's just too much blood in my coffee."

He takes a sit right beside you and keeps watching. You're too tired to care, so you continue writing furiously under his look. He doesn't say a thing.

"I'm sorry", he says after a while, sounding embarrassed. "I didn't mean to look creepy. I couldn't focus on my papers anymore, so I decided to walk around. There's nobody else here."

You stop and turn to look at him. "It's no big-"

His eyes are so blue that make you freeze. It's like déjà vu. He's wearing glasses with no frame, his blond hair is messy and it looks like he just woke up. You realize one second late you're staring.

"Anyway", he starts, with a lopsided smile. He's not flirting or anything, just being friendly. You're not flirting either; your brain doesn't have the capacity. "I have to go back or I'll never finish."

"You never told me what you were doing."

"Oh. Just working on my dissertation", he shrugs. "You should take easy on the coffee, you know."

You scoff. "If you knew my preceptor, you wouldn't tell that."

He shrugs again, raising his hands. "I'm just saying."

The gesture is so freaking familiar and you can't remember why. You think you're delusional because of the coffee. He's right; you should stop and get some sleep.

"Right", you go back to your papers and he takes it as a clue to leave.

"Guess I'll see you around…" he pauses, waiting for your name.

"Lopez", you say quickly. "Santana Lopez."

He touches your shoulder and gets up. You turn to look at him again, he's offering his hand. You take it. "Matthew. Matthew Pierce. You can call me Matt."

You drop his hand and he goes away. You can't move a single muscle and your eyes are impossibly wide.

Matthew Pierce.

Pierce.

Brittany.

"Oh my God."

* * *

"You met her brother? That's awesome! Ask for her number. Or his, I don't know what you want anymore."

"Quinn, c'mon, be serious", you reply, trying not to laugh because, really, what are the chances? "I don't know if they're related."

"Oh yeah, sure. 'Cause there's a lot of Pierces with electric blue eyes and blond hair walking on your campus", she pauses and says something that sounds a lot like 'in a second, babe', and you feel a sting in your chest. "I gotta go. Rach wants my opinion on some playlist. We'll talk later. But seriously, if you met him again, ask about Brittany."

"I'm not sure if I want to know, Q. It's been a while."

"Are you kidding? Of course you want to know. Or you wouldn't be freaking out over it", you gasp and she knows she's got you. "You know it."

You hear Rachel calling her again on the other side.

"Yea, sure. You better go before Rachel decides she's holding sex for a week to punish you", Quinn starts to complain, but you cut her off, "alright Quinn, I don't wanna know."

You don't have time to go to the kitchen to grab something before your phone rings again. Sam's voice is barely understandable because he's half shouting half cheering something about Mercedes coming to town after almost 4 years living in LA. Soon as you understand him you get thrilled too, Mercedes is really fun and you miss hanging out with her. They want to see a performance and go to some bar after, to celebrate the end of the tests. When you say you know he's going to be all over her and you really don't want to be alone Sam says she's going to bring Sugar. You don't know if it's any better, but you agree anyway, telling him to text you the location. He says he's picking you up because you're always late and the way he says it makes you think he's hiding something from you.

"_You've got to be kidding me!"_ your mind shouts when you find yourself at the entrance of the Zellerbach Playhouse. He said the performance was in town, not on the campus. Damn.

"Here we go", Sam says, barely containing his excitement. "Look, I can see them! God, she looks amazing and…"

"C'mon, lovesick boy", you joke, trying to hide the way your stomach is turning painfully.

Ignoring the knot in your stomach, you get in your seat while Mercedes is talking about her job in LA and how she thinks she's one step from signing a solo contract after 4 years singing on the back. She tells you she came here because her producer couldn't make it and he wanted to meet one of the student choreographers and offer them a job in the summer. You ask if she knows who the student is – just because, of course – and she says "whatshisname Chang", and you release your shoulders, even though you don't know if she's a student choreographer. She said 'dance major', so…

She continues explaining about tonight's event until someone shows up at the stage and everybody is silent as he speaks.

"Good evening, everyone! It's nice to see a full house. My name is Mike Chang and this is the Fall Choreography Showcase. Tonight we'll see the original work from some of our student choreographers, including me", he laughs easily and plays with his tie. "I want to say thanks to my teachers, my friends, especially the ones that'll be dancing tonight, for making this show a reality; and finally, thank you guys for coming. Hope you have a great time with us tonight."

Everyone claps loudly and an older man enters the stage with a piece of paper in hands.

"The first performance tonight will be Michael Chang's 'Underwater'. The song is 'No Way Out', by Gramatik. Enjoy."

The song starts as the curtains open, revealing a white background with some blue tissues creating an effect you don't understand, but it's beautiful anyway.

Not so beautiful as the girl who enters the stage leading the way with a long dark blue dress that you swear it's made with smoke. Her blond hair is floating around her as she moves flawlessly on the stage, the other dancers barely catching any attention. The beat changes, a transition to jazz into some kind of hip-hop and she follows it, moving faster but still so delicate, her eyes sparkling on the dim light like a lighthouse, guiding the public through the show.

You can't believe you took so long to see her again.

Your brain refuses to recognize anything that's not her, not even the music, not even the comments your friends are making, nothing.

Suddenly you wish you had brought flowers. But then you remember you don't have guts for that. You sink a little with the thought and you find yourself wanting to do something – anything, really – to talk to her after her performance, just to say she was breathtaking in it.

You guess you can say Brittany is always like that.

There are three more numbers, none of them gets your attention – of course – and before you know it, your friends are getting up to leave. Mercedes says she has to wait for Mike and everybody agrees to wait with her, so you can go together to the bar after. You don't have to wait longer until you see Mike and some dancers leaving the building.

Mercedes' tone is professional when she asks if she can have a word with him, smiling politely in a way that makes you think that's going to take some time.

"I'm going to the bathroom", you say to Sam and Sugar.

You miss when Sugar opens her mouth to say something and Sam grabs her wrist surely, speaking something that sounds like 'she wants to be alone', holding her in place.

* * *

"I told you Berkeley isn't that big", her voice is crystal clear and you're sure it's a dream. She's still with the performance makeup, but changed her dress into jeans and a white tank top. She's smiling at you like she has a secret only she knows.

"Brittany", you say slowly, with a smile. You feel your face heating.

"Hi", she looks shy, stepping towards you almost in slow motion. "Took us long enough."

"For what?" You're asking questions knowing the answer, none of your voices above a whisper.

"Meeting again."

You're blushing so furiously.

"I-I saw you dancing", you want to say so many things, but the way she's looking at you like she can't quite believe she finally found you makes you so warm inside you can't really think. "You were amazing. I wish I had flowers, y-you totally deserve flowers."

Now she's the one blushing. You're proud of yourself.

"You're such a gentlewoman, Santana", her smile gets bigger and she pokes your nose. You've the same height because you're wearing heels and she's wearing chucks. You can't help but imagine how it would be to kiss her without the height difference.

What are you doing?

"Why do you always zone out when we're talking?" She asks, half-joking, half flirting. "Am I that boring?"

"Not at all", you flirt back, not even realizing. "Look, my friends are outside and-"

"I get it", she cuts you and steps back, and you hate yourself because of it.

"No, it's not that", you give a step towards her again and she looks surprised. "We're going to some bar to celebrate the end of the tests, and… Actually, do you want to come?"

Her eyes widen comically when you ask. Sure, you're not asking her on a date, but it's a start. Your heart is beating like crazy and you can feel your hands sweating. Okay, gross. You have no game.

"I'd love to, but… My parents are coming over tomorrow and I need to be up early", you frown. "It's not a lame excuse, I…"

"I could ditch they instead", you say in a rush, and you can't believe you did. "I mean, my friend… Mercedes came from LA, and Sam has a crush on her, and he'll be all over her, and Sugar is so annoying and…"

"Santana", Brittany is laughing at your rambling and you're feeling pathetic. Until she kisses your cheek quickly, then you just want to die because your face is on fire. "You're cute."

"T-that's a yes? I mean, I have to get my car at my apartment, because Sam drove me here, b-but you don't mind, right? I mean, it's not-"

"Calm down", she says, amused. "My car is across the street. Get rid of your friends and meet me there in…" she checks her watch, "ten minutes."

You nod vigorously, a big goofy smile on your face like it's never going away.

"Good. See you soon", she lifts your chin with one finger and catches your lower lip between hers, letting go faster than you wanted.

As soon as you can speak again, you joke. "I thought you said you wouldn't surprise me again."

She stops by the door and look at you over her shoulder.

"Are you honestly surprised?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading, following and everything. You guys are awesome. :)  
****See you soon.**


	3. Chapter 2: Stellar

You can't help but feel like you're breaking some kind of prison as you walk to Brittany's car after telling your friends you wouldn't make it to the bar because you had a tough week. Sam didn't even pay attention, but Mercedes looked disappointed and you would feel really guilty, but right now the only thing you can feel is that weird stuff going on at your stomach, which is messing with your heart too, 'cause it's beating crazy fast.

You know what's going on. And well, _that's_ scary.

"I said 10 minutes" Brittany deadpans as you put your seatbelt. Hell, that's pretty hard to do when your hands are shaking like that.

"I'm so sorry, my friends, they-"

"I'm kidding, Santana", she laughs, turning the engine on.

She drives silent until a considerable distance from the playhouse. Then she looks at you, fidgeting on the seat. "Where do you wanna go?"

"I don't know", you say honestly. You never thought she would say yes, so you didn't think further about this whole thing. "Anywhere you want, I suppose."

"I was planning to take you to the Albatross, you know? That pub at San Pablo Ave?" You nod. She looks shy for a second, then her eyes widen like she said something she shouldn't have.

You get it.

"Were you planning to take me somewhere?" You tease, feeling more at ease around her. Then it kind of hits you and you blush when you realize what it means. You dare to look at her and her cheeks are a deep shade of red.

She nods slowly, blushing even more. "Well, kinda. I didn't know if we were going to meet again or if you, you know…" She doesn't finish and you get what she means. If you were too scared to talk to her, if you decided you're not into girls at all or anything like that. You haven't thought about it before, but it must be hard to her, to deal with you and with the things she may want – assuming she wants something, you don't know. You look down because it's so messy and so your fault. "But, you know", she continues, stopping the car completely, "it's a crowded place, and I think… I don't know, but… I think we should talk. If you want to, of course."

You don't miss a beat. "I want to", suddenly you look too excited. You clear your throat. "I mean, it's a good idea."

"I know a place", she makes a turn. "It's a little far, if you don't mind the trip. But it's far away enough, I mean, from the campus, that's… Good for you, I think. I mean-", her voice drops when she says that. It's like you're hiding because you're doing something wrong and you don't want people finding out about it. She's protecting you and you should be ashamed.

You want so bad to be just a little braver.

"Brittany, it's not like-", you start, but the words get stuck, so you stop.

"People won't think anything of you if they see you with me", you think she's saying just because, but there's a hurt tone and you notice. Makes you feel worse. "Because they don't know anything about me. Don't feel bad for… Wanting to hide. I get it. I said it before, I'll say it again: it's your time. It's about you. It's all about you."

She reaches for your hand before saying the last two sentences, and the way she says them makes your heart stop and beat faster at the same time, and you feel your whole body tingling.

She's looking at you like you're about to walk away if she says something wrong. It's protective and scared and you feel just a little overwhelmed before you reach over and kiss her.

It's a kiss that say thank you and I'm sorry at the same time, you can't help it. You put your free hand on her cheek to keep her in place and she closes her eyes under your touch. She smiles shyly against you mouth and kisses you back. Your brain is melting and you don't think you're able to think about how scared you were a few weeks ago. You feel like you're… settling with yourself.

This is actually okay. You're okay.

You break the kiss and your foreheads rest together as your hand continues on her cheek, stroking slowly against her soft skin. She smiles again and gives you a quick peck. "Let's go on a trip, then", she whispers, and the way she's breathing into your mouth makes you dizzy.

You give her another peck and it's decided.

"The Bay Trail?" You ask when she stops the car near a tree, and you can see a single bench in the riverside. The city lights are barely visible and it's quiet enough to hear the water sounds. You smile because it's kinda romantic.

"Is it okay? I like this place", you nod and get out the car, jumping to open the door for her, making her giggle. "Oh, stop, you dork", she jokes, smiling.

"This way, ma'am", you lead the way and you sit on the bench, staring at the water.

There's no talking for a while. You both keep looking to the river, with Brittany's arm around your shoulder, her fingers caressing your arm as you lean towards her, resting your head on the curve of her neck. It's weirdly familiar and you like it, makes you feel safe.

You start to think it's a Brittany's thing, to make you safe.

* * *

"…And then he was like, gone. It was his first week on campus and I wanted to take him to some frat party just because, you know, it's a frat party", Brittany nods, holding herself unable to stop laughing. "They found him at the roof – of _course_ there's always a fucking roof – and they called me. I was super drunk and pissed because he was missing and I needed a ride home after. I got there, all attitude, and he was on the floor, mumbling, everybody around him. Then I started yelling 'back off! I'm a doctor!'"

"But you-"

"I KNOW! Everybody was like 'oh my God, you superhero' and I could barely stand on my feet. I started poking him on the ribs saying 'Sammy, I know CPR, do you want me to do CPR?'"

"You do know CPR, right?"

"Don't offend me, Pierce", you frown at her, but she just arches a brow at you and raise her hands. "Anyway, he didn't answer me, so I started the CPR."

"Did it work?"

"Well, yea. He went all Exorcist on me."

"Gross."

"I know. I just turned around and said 'my work here is done. Now you should call a priest'. I guess people are right when they say I'm funnier when I'm drunk."

"If I were there, I'd start praying", Brittany deadpans and you laugh like crazy. "No, I mean it. My cat was possessed once. I told him that those satanic things weren't a good idea, but he was so depressed after they kicked him out of the gang", you laugh harder because really, what the actual fuck? This girl is hilarious.

"I'm sorry for your satanic cat", you manage to say, and she has to tight her arms around you to keep you steady.

"Oh, he's fine now. But yea, tough times", she frowns, lost in memories. "Cool outfits, though. Red is definitely his color."

The conversation flows easily between you, almost like you were friends for a long time and just met again to catch up. You find out Brittany has a unique way to think and you find it amazingly curious. The subjects remain light and you never felt so relaxed than when she's holding you like that, arms around your waist, hands clasped against your stomach. Even though you felt suffocated when your ex-boyfriends tried to do the same, you don't feel that way with Brittany at all.

It's romantic but not at the same time. She's not holding you because you're in love and can't stand being an inch apart, or anything cliché and desperate like that. She's holding you because she wants to, and you want her to as well. It's simple. Being here with her is simple. You don't have to think about meanings and how things are going to be in the future. And you don't want to. As long as you can keep doing this, you're fine with everything else.

You know it's not that easy, not really.

"It's getting late", she whispers against your hair. "Wanna grab something to eat? Then I can take you home, if it's okay with you."

Again, that same feeling someone is popping your bubble.

"Actually, can we talk about something first?" Her tone is careful and unsure.

You take a deep breath. "Of course."

"I kinda want to see you again", you blush because the way she says it is so adorable and you feel like you mean something. "But I don't know how you're dealing with the whole unicorn thing."

"I want to see you again too, Britt", she smiles at the nickname and you get shy all of a sudden, because it kinda slipped. "But… There are complications. I don't see myself fooling around with you and don't want to do it, it's unfair. At the same time, I can't promise I'll be able to tell everyone we are… Whatever we're doing. And I can't tell you to keep it a secret, can I?"

Brittany's face changes when you say the last part. You see her eyes moving down and she's shaking her head slowly. Her grip around you gets loose.

"I'd rather not…" She starts, not sure if she should say it. "Do it again."

The way she says it makes you turn to look at her. She looks serious in a way you haven't seen her yet, and you never want to see again. It's painfully beautiful, but so damn sad you can't take it. You don't know what happened or if you want to know, but right now the only thing you want to do is turn her into her bubbly self again.

"Hey", you say, nuzzling her cheek. "Look, I know I'm messed up and p-probably not the best person to be with, for a thousand reasons", you sigh. "But… You're something else, you know? I-I don't want to take some time to think about stuff because it's not fair to make you wait and… I don't want to wait either. This isn't about me anymore. It's about… Everyone else. I know what I want already."

"You do?"

"I do."

You don't tell her wanting is severely different of being able to have, but that's something you'll deal later.

"You know", she starts, her grip becoming tight again. "There's a difference between a secret and not telling things."

"What do you mean?"

"People judge you all the time, even when you don't tell them anything. The things you do, the things you say, clothes you wear, friends you have", she sighs. "Grades. People you don't know will think they know you better than you do. But it doesn't matter, you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because they don't."

She lifts your chin and kisses you softly. Every kiss you'd ever shared had a meaning, and this one is your favorite so far, because it's her telling that you're safe. You turn around and wrap your arm around her neck, pulling her closer and it's never enough. She's in no rush, and when she skates the tip of her tongue on your lower lip you think you might faint. You open your mouth just enough to let her in, meeting halfway. She's not close enough and you're having trouble controlling your speed. You grab the hem of her shirt as her hands wander up and down your back, settling on your waist again and pulling you even closer. You're almost on her lap and you're not even thinking about it.

You break the kiss just for a second to bite her lower lip slightly, and you feel her smirking. You let go and when she moves down to your jaw you can't help but shiver. Brittany notices.

"What we did", she whispers on your ear, and your knuckles are white grabbing her shirt. "What we are doing", she starts kissing your neck, hands running on your back. "And everything we'll do", she grabs your lower lip between hers, letting go with a small pop. "It's our business. Not a secret. We're not hiding, we're just… not leaking the…" She licks her lips and looks down to yours. You're losing it. "Information", she finishes slowly, savoring the word.

"We just have to choose the right places to go and right people to see", you smile at her and her logic. You kiss her quickly again. "You're all kinds of brilliant, you know."

"That I am", she kisses you again.

When air becomes a necessity you break apart just a few inches. "Let's grab something to eat."

"I know a good place."

"I bet you do."

* * *

When you see Brittany stopping by Jack In The Box you just look at her with an amused smile.

"What? I get really hungry when I dance", she pouts and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You get off the car and she offers you her hand. You look around carefully and she just tilts her head, daring you.

You take her hand.

"What are you getting?"

"Ahn, a salad?"

"Santana"

"What? As a doctor, I think it's important to…"

"Two Bacon Ultimate Cheeseburgers and two Oreo Cookie Ice Cream Shakes, please", she hands the money to the cashier before you say anything. "Oh, I forgot the fries."

"…Keep a balanced diet", she takes you by the hand and guides you to the table. The waiter handles your meal a few minutes later. "Or that. I'm not complaining."

"Try the Oreo Shake", Brittany says, taking a good bite of her burger. "It's ouw-sum."

"Don't talk with your mouth f-"; you take a sip of your shake. "Oh my God this is awesome."

"Told ya."

You eat in silence, occasionally stealing glances and looking away shyly right after. You feel like a dork on those rom-com movies. That until she throws one of her fries on you, telling you to stop leering. You fake an offended look and say you're not, but before you could throw another on her she says she needs to go home.

"I can't believe you ate your fries AND mine", you say, shocked. "You're such a French Fries' thief."

Brittany just shrugs, "I said I was hungry. You were taking forever to eat", she pokes her tongue out and gets in the car.

"You barely breathe when you eat and it's my fault?"

"Rude."

"Just drive, Pierce", your tone is angry, but when she turns to look at you, you have a goofy smile. She kisses your cheek just because.

"Yes ma'am. Let's take you home."

* * *

"What about you pick up your phone, Lopez?"

"It's Sunday, 11am, for God's sake, Fabray. It's like dawn, why are you calling me?"

"Just checking on you. Mercedes were pretty pissed on the phone last night saying you ditched her and the guys because you were tired. And I know you, 'tired' is code to 'drink alone at home', and I thought… Wait, why are you laughing?"

"I went out with Brittany last night."

You hear a gasp and suddenly Quinn's shouting on the speaker. "OH MY GOD, SANTANA!"

"Please don't have a heart attack", you say, bored. "I don't have enough money to attend your funeral, you live too fucking far."

"Tell me every fucking thing or I swear I'll cross the state to kick your ass."

You snort. "As if."

"Argh, just tell me, damn it."

You spent almost twenty minutes telling the story, because Quinn kept interrupting to ask things or just to shout something random to Rachel.

"Well, Santana Lopez is a helpless romantic. Who knew?"

"Shut up, Fabgay, remember the razorblades. I'm still not afraid to cut a bitch."

"Yea, yea, whatever", her voice tenses a little and she speaks in a lower tone next. "I need to tell you something, that's why I called, actually." Pause. "My mother called me, she said… Your father is back in town."

You choke. "You're kidding."

"I'm not", she breathes out, sounding frustrated. "She asked me if you knew something, because it's been like what, three years since the divorce, isn't it?"

"Three and a half, yea", you correct, running your fingers through your hair. "My mom didn't say a thing. Do you think I should call her or something? I mean, damn."

"I don't know, Santana. Why would you call? It's not like she wants to know about him, I think."

"It's just weird, Quinn. He disappeared. The only way I knew he was alive was because he sent me an email when I finished Pre Med, saying 'Got your grades, good job, I'm proud. Dad'. It creeps me out still, I'm sure he has like, a detective or something tracking me."

"Ask your grandma, then. I bet she knows. She knows everything."

"She does, doesn't she?" You laugh, nervous. "I don't know, maybe he just dropped by to visit. Missed the town, old friends and shit."

"Do you honestly believe in that?"

"Of course not. But I don't have time for that. I have an anamnesis to write-up, my preceptor wants my head and I still can't figure out the reason besides the fact she's a bitch. Oh, and I'm on call tomorrow. How awesome is that?"

Quinn chuckles. "You sound like a doctor."

You sigh. "I sound like my father."

"No, you don't. You'll be a better doctor than him. You actually, you know, care", you snort. "I mean it, Santana, disagree all you want, see if I care."

"Whatever. I gotta go, Q. Call me if your mom tells something else. I'll call my abuela when I have some time and I'll let you know."

"Alright. Tell Brittany I said hi and I can't wait to meet her."

"Of course", if she detects the sarcasm in your voice, she doesn't say anything about it. "Bye, Q."

You roll on the bed but you can't bring yourself back to sleep, your brain can't shut up, picturing all the worst case scenarios that would bring your father back to Lima. Maybe Mrs. Fabray just saw someone who looked like him. Yea, his face is pretty common anyways. Of course.

You get up and pick your phone to call your mom just because, and then it buzzes with a new text.

_Thanks for letting me steal your fries. -B_

You smile and type an answer, saying you will try to eat faster so it won't happen again.

_I'll be faster, then. What are you doing tomorrow night? -B_

"I'm on call tomorrow, sorry, Britt", you say when she answers the phone. You wanted to hear her voice.

She just giggles. "Well, hello to you too, doc."

"Hey you", you suppose she can hear your goofy smile. "Everything okay with your parents?"

"They're alright. Dad's going to my brother's to get the rest of my stuff and we'll grab lunch right after. Mom's helping me organizing stuff."

"Didn't know you were moving", you say, just in time to hear Brittany telling someone – her mom, you guess – that she's talking to a friend. You wonder if you're really a friend.

She sighs and you feel her tone getting uncomfortable. "Hm, yea. I needed more space… For stuff."

"Your brother is moving too? With you, I mean?"

"Of course not", she hisses. "I mean, no, he's staying at the old apartment. It was grandpa's, so he doesn't pay rent."

It doesn't make sense but you don't ask.

"But anyways", she continues with a softer tone. "Any reason for your highness to call me?"

You blush. "Not really. I just woke up with a phone call and couldn't get back to sleep. Now I don't know if I should drop by Starbucks to grab some coffee or just have lunch already."

"So you called me for words of wisdom?"

"Pretty much."

"Hm, okay", her voice um bubbly and you think she's adorable. "Lunch with me and parents, not an option, right?"

"Britt", you warn.

"I'm kidding. You should call your friends, you know, the ones you ditched last night. It's only polite. You said your friend lives in LA, right? You should hang out with her before she leaves."

"Mercedes is so going to kick my ass."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"You're not."

She laughs. "I'm not."

You chuckle lightly, looking around your room, at the papers on your desk. Real life stuff. Right. "Hm, Britt, I gotta go. There're papers on my desk and they won't write-up themselves."

"Just ask the dwarves", she deadpans.

"Yea, I should... Wait, what?"

"I used to do it all the time in junior high. My homework was always done after", you want to laugh, but you can't, her tone is too serious. You hear her mother laughing on the other side. "It didn't work in high school, though. Guess they're not so smart for high school subjects."

You laugh. "You're too cute."

"I know", she pauses, unsure. "Any chance I get to see you today?"

"No idea", you say, honestly. "I have to write-up something because the due date is tomorrow and read some stuff because the teacher is up on my ass, but that's it. Your parents won't stay all day?"

"I don't know. Mom said they'll go to Matt's after they're finished here, so I guess not", she sounds frustrated. "Matt is my brother, by the way."

You almost say 'I know', but you stop yourself. "Right. You're not going with them?"

She scoffs like it's obvious she's not. "I'll have lunch with everybody already. It's enough."

"Uh, okay then", you're a little surprised with her tone, but you don't show it. "Can I just text you when I'm finished and if you're free I'll pick you up and we'll go somewhere?"

Brittany considers for a second before answering. "Sounds awesome. I'll text you the address."

You hang up and grab the papers on your desk, forgetting your coffee or lunch. You just want to finish them as soon as you can.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, following and stuff. Sorry for the mistakes.  
****See you guys soon.**


	4. Chapter 3: Can You Keep a Secret?

"Brittany", you're panting. "It's not very smart if we… Oh God", Brittany reaches your pulsing point _again _and you're using all the strength you have to keep it together.

It's not working at all, because the only thing really stopping you is the awkward position in the car. Part of you is wishing Brittany never finds a proper position. The rest wants her to take you in _every _position.

"Britt, I mean it", but you don't mean at all as you keep tilting your head to give more room for her. You feel a smile against your neck and her hand it's on your knee and moving up. Your mind just screamed 'yes, yes' as she moves back to your lips, and it's all wet, open-mouthed and kind of desperate. You struggle to follow as your tongue meets hers and she takes a deep breath before moving even closer, almost taking you off your seat and putting you on her lap to make things easier. Your hands curl on her tights and you're sure you've never been that worked up before.

Your hands go higher on top of her tights, lifting her shirt just a little just because her abs are gorgeous and you'll never fail to gasp every time you touch her skin. So you do it again, and you gasp again, looking at her eyes closed and heart beating like crazy.

You feel so proud of yourself because you can make her heart beat that fast.

She guides your hand up, and for a spit of a second you think it might be a bad idea, but then you reach the lower limit of her bra and it's the best thing you never knew you wanted when you cup her breast over the bra.

No, scratch that. The best things are the sounds Brittany keeps making when you do that.

You wonder why you took so long to do that, and now you can't stop. You slow down and kiss her neck; still massaging her breast like it's the most amazing thing you've ever done.

(You're sure it is.)

Brittany stands powerless under you now, moving out of control, her hands slowly on you back under your shirt, her fingers making your skin burn. Her heart is hammering against your hand and it's so beautiful you want to stop everything just to tell her that.

"I…" You stutter, and she stops. You look at her for a second, messy hair and swollen lips. She smiles at you and your heartbeat rate doubles just like that. She looks at you like you're amazing in a way you know you're not. You need a second to recall what you were going to say. You try again. "This is so…"

Her smile grows warmer as she presses your foreheads together and holds you closer, resting a hand on your tight. "You look so cute when you stutter."

You bite your lip and she kisses you again before you answer.

Again, you forgot what you were going to say.

"Do you want to come in?" She says, unsure.

You've been hanging out for over a month now and it's the first time Brittany asks. You don't know what to say. It's not that you don't want to, because you do, oh-so-much. But… You're worried and scared and… You're afraid you're going to disappoint her and you can't stand that because you like her so…

"Santana", she reaches for your chin and your eyes lock. You think you said that out loud. "It's okay. We can hang out tomorrow or something, you don't have to… You know. It's fine", she says again, nuzzling your nose with hers and kissing you softly. "We're fine. I don't want you to worry about anything", another kiss. "Anything at all."

You nod, mesmerized, because she's just so perfect you don't know what you did to deserve it.

"Okay", you breathe.

"Okay", she repeats.

Neither of you say a thing for a couple of minutes; Brittany just closes her eyes and lean against your chest. You hold her and kiss the top of her head just because.

"We're just…" You start. "So cheesy."

You hear her laughing softly, makes your neck tickles.

"Is it a bad thing?"

"I don't know. Lots of couples are cheesy for a while, and then they break up because of their cheesiness." You feel her stop breathing under you. "Is there something wrong?"

"Are we a couple?" She blunts. You stay in silence for a long time; then you laugh lightly. "What's so funny?"

It's funny because not long ago you were freaking out because Brittany kissed you and everything was messy and confused inside your head. Now you see each other almost every day and even with all the adjustments, long trips away from the university and PDA going really slow, you got it so bad you can't actually believe. There are still all sorts of things to figure out, but for the first time you think you'll get to do it at some point.

And feeling you're doing things right? That's a first.

You shake your head. "Nothing. It's just… This is so movie-like, the whole questioning about where we stand and all that jazz. Don't get me wrong, Britt, I'm not mocking you, I'd never; it's just… I've always seen things like this happening before with everybody else and never thought it would happen to me. Am I making sense?"

She looks at you, speechless. You've never seen anything sparkling brighter than her eyes. "That's a yes, then?"

"We have to discuss time issues before", your tone is serious, but there's a hint of a smile on it. "Who's going to ask if we're going too fast? Isn't that the protocol?"

She arches an eyebrow to you, confused. "Do you think we are overstepping? I mean, sometimes I just say thin-"

You just laugh again and she stops talking. "I'm kidding. Yes, that's a yes. Let's get to the dating ship, come aboard."

"Dork", she lifts her head to kiss you. It's slow and seductive and kinda makes you want to die. "I hate to be the paranoid one, but… Are we going to tell people now?"

Your brain freezes, but you try your best not to show it. "We… Can. If you want to", you start, unsure. If you keep thinking too much about that, you're gone.

"I don't mind waiting, though. It's not like we're getting Facebook official or something, the highlights are really unnecessary. But I really want to tell my cat, you know? And… I don't know if you want to tell your friends about it…"

You think she knows it's more complicated than it seems, to involve people into this. It's like another universe, but it doesn't seem to bother her, so it won't bother you either. You trust her; you just don't exactly have a speech. You know that dating Brittany is not just about telling your friends you have a new girlfriend. It's about telling them you have a _girlfriend_, and that comes with dealing with how you're going to tell people what it means and their reactions. That's something worth doing, because, well, it's Brittany. But it'll change stuff in a way you don't know if you're fully prepared for.

She seems to feel your brain frying, because she tilts her head and holds you closer. "Can we think about the details later? I kinda want to make out with my girlfriend now, if you don't mind."

You look hypnotized, smiling easily at her playfulness. "Say that again."

She chuckles. "What? Making out with my girlfriend?"

"Yea. I like how that sounds", you breathe. "We are being cheesy again."

"Totally cheesy", she agrees, her smiling slowing turning into a smirk. "Let's just make out already."

"But… People might spot us and…"

"Shut up and kiss me, Santana."

Her eyes are darkening and she's licking her lips in anticipation.

You can't really argue with that, can you?

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

After a very angry call from Sam in which he said he would shave your hair in your sleep if you didn't stop by his work to see him, you find yourself driving to Starbucks after your class. At some point you think about telling him you're dating Brittany, 'cause somehow it feels easier to start with him. Not that you have many people to tell anyway.

You arrive at the coffee and he spots you right away, nodding seriously for almost a second after breaking in a goofy smile. "Look, you're alive."

"Barely", you reply tiredly. "What's up, Trouty? I have to be somewhere in about an hour."

"Yea, right", he says, shrugging. "I forgot about your saving your soul thing."

You frown. "I don't really appreciate when you talk like that about my job, Sam", and you mean when you say. The Suitcase Clinic thing is not something you like to joke about and he knows that. "It's the only thing that makes it worth."

He sits in front of you at the table, giving you a polite nod by way of apology. Sam is one of the rare people who actually know you, but sometimes he pushes your buttons in a way he really shouldn't. You can't get mad at him for long, though.

"So", he starts again. "How's everything? You disappeared. School's getting you busy?"

You settle for "not quite" when you answer, because you don't like lying to him. He just eyes you curiously.

"I'm seeing someone", you offer. "I mean, more like… Dating someone."

"You WHAT?" He yells, jumping of the chair. "How long? Why were you keeping me at the dark with it?"

He looks really mad.

"Sammy…"

"Don't go all 'Sammy' with me, Santana. What the fuck? You're _dating_ after God knows how long has it been since you like, went to hell and back, and you don't have the decency to tell me? Really?"

You feel so small because you know what he's talking about. "It's complicated."

"Bullshit. Just tell me the guy's name and I'll go all Facebook stalk-"

"It's not a guy", your voice is a weak whisper and your heart is racing because that's it.

Sam blinks. Once. Twice. Then he tilts his head and gives you an assuring nod. "Okay", he says. "Why you didn't tell me you and Brittany were hanging out?"

You freeze. "How do you-"

"I'm blonde, but I'm far from dumb, Santana", he offers you a small smile. "And you give my knowledge of you less credit than it deserves."

"I don't get it."

He laughs and squeezes your shoulder. "You like to think you don't give a fuck about stuff. I don't think you'd lose your precious sleep time thinking about what that little thing with her at the party meant if you didn't want it to mean something", he frowns and ducks his head, suddenly confused. "Or something like that. Did you get it? I'm confused myself, but I think-"

"I got it, Trouty", you smile politely at him, and you thought telling him would be like having something really heavy taken out of your shoulders, but it doesn't feel like that at all. You're still as tense as you were before you entered the building.

There's this weird silence. You feel Sam's eyes watching you and you can't look at him, feeling the blush on your cheeks.

"Are you happy?" He's choosing words carefully, you can tell. You lift your head to look at him.

"I am", you say honestly. "It's been… Everything I never knew I wanted."

He smiles bashfully. "I'm glad, then."

And that's it.

"I thought you were going to ask about-"

"I don't care about that part, Santana", you watch as he walks around the subject without really talking about it. You appreciate the gesture. "I'm sure you've already put enough thought on that matter. Anyways, I'll support you and kick everybody's ass if they bother you. There's nothing new about that", he takes a deep breath. "Except now you have a really hot girl and I'm totally jealous."

You arch your eyebrows and give him a punch on the shoulder. "Careful. That's my girlfriend you're talking about."

You don't feel tense anymore.

"You're going to be late", he looks at the clock at the wall and you both get up. He takes a deep breath. "Thanks, Santana."

"For what?" You whisper.

"For telling me."

You nod like it isn't a big deal, but when you hug him, you both know it is.

* * *

You're 10 minutes late when you arrive at the Suitcase Clinic. You grab your coat in a hush and just sort of trip at the reception. The secretary smiles kindly at your lack of gracefulness.

"Good afternoon, Santana", she says, as you recover yourself, a blushing spreading on your face.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Reed", you answer politely, taking the files she gives you at the counter. "Crowded day?"

"You know it", she nods, looking away from you for a minute to write something. She handles you a paper. "Give it to Dr. Syed, will you? He's waiting for you to begin the triage."

"Of course. Thank you."

The triage process takes about half an hour, and it's the worst part of the process. People come to you, and you have to choose the priority cases for the day, about six or seven people. It's heartbreaking for you to say no, but your coordinator doesn't have all night to watch you and you can't be all by yourself to take care of all of them.

You said that to him once and he said you looked like someone trying to make it up for something by doing this. You never said a word about your thoughts again.

Today is hard. Dr. Syed looks particularly annoyed when you start the cases presentation – two suspects of broken bones, a bad case of asthma, a couple of flu cases, an infection and that creepy guy asking to get his stitches off (there's this huge cute on his back; he said it was a fence, but you know it was a knife stab for sure).

"I'll let you do the stitches, here", he says, pointing the procedures table with his head without taking his eyes off your notes. "Are you sure about the source of this infection?"

His tone looks skeptical like always. He usually tries to make you feel like shit so you can try harder to prove you're not stupid. It usually works, but not because of his method. You have something else to prove.

"I'm not, sir, that's why I suggested Vancomycin. It's a broad-spectrum antibiotic and-"

"I know what Vancomycin is, Lopez, spare me the bookworm impression."

You clench your fists. "Yes, sir."

"Anyway", he continues looking at the file. "Another case of asthma? You should just refer them to the pharmacy, I bet they know the medicine's name better than you do", he laughs at his own joke and you're giving your best to explode. "And this bones. I'm sure the first one isn't broken, it's just some dislocation."

"I'm sure we can give them some Cortisol to help with the pain, then, sir."

When he gives you this angry look, you know you're right.

"The second one looks pretty broken", you feel him cutting the 'you were right' he's never giving you. "That's why you shouldn't have given them the spot today, that's not a case for us to take. You've done that before and I said the same thing."

He doesn't look disappointed at all. It's like he knew you'd mess this up.

"Just take that stitches off and refer the rest to the guys at the pharmacy. I'll give a close look at this infection case while you do the rest of the write ups for the day. And that broken bone is a hospital case, if you don't know that."

You're left alone without another word. The patients look at you like they're really sorry and you can't help but feeling a little worthless, because hell, you're supposed to help them, they don't need to feel sorry for you.

"Alright", you say, trying to control yourself. "Let me help you guys with that."

You don't finish your write-ups until 9:30PM, when you hear Mrs. Reed knocking to tell you it's time to go home. You let her in, organizing your papers and putting stuff together in your bag. You rest your head on your hands and take a deep breath as she takes a seat and just looks at you.

"I feel like crap", you confess, shaking your head.

The woman touches your forearm gently. She reminds you of the lunch woman at your high school, with a gentle smile and some kindness people don't have anymore. She used to hide you at the kitchen after practice and to give you a stolen sandwich because your coach didn't let you eat more than that protein shake of hers.

"I honestly don't know why he gives you such a hard time, Santana", she replies, sadly. "You do such a good job around here."

"Do I?" Your tone is skeptical as his.

"You do, darling", the older woman gives your forearm a little squeeze. "You try hard; you treat people right even when they're not so nice with you. You actually _want_ to help them and that's what makes you a good doctor", she pauses to look at you, measuring. When she speaks again, her tone is almost confidential. "And no matter what they say, Santana, you're _not_ just your father's daughter. Please remember that."

You give her a lopsided smile. "I will."

"Good. You have a real good heart, darling. I'm sure people will see that just like I did."

You think about Brittany and your smile grows. "I really hope so, Mrs. Reed."

* * *

By the end of the week you finally got yourself some time to call your family. It's been a while since you got the last (shocking) news from home, and you were openly postponing it because you didn't want to know some things, namely, if your father was really back in town.

You're sure he's not there anymore after two weeks, so you decide it's time to call.

Your mom answers on the second ring. "Well, I was beginning to forget your name, Santana."

"I'm glad you didn't", your tone is playful just like hers. "How's everything?"

"It's fine. Pretty uneventful", her tone is suspect, but you don't ask. "You know, that's how Lima is. But how are you, my successful daughter? Busy? Have you been eating? Sleeping?"

"Eating, yes. Sleeping… Not so much", you keep going around silly subjects because you don't want to ask what you have to ask. You don't want to talk about college, either.

"Got yourself a pretty doctor already? Since you said Sam is not your type…"

You gasp, but decide to play along. "Not a doctor, but sort of, yea", you're playing in a _very_ dangerous path right now, but you don't want to hide things from your mother. You won't tell the truth, either.

"Oh my!" she spats. "Tell me about him!"

Your hands are shaking and your heart is racing. You're glad she can't see you. "Oh, there's nothing to tell, it's nothing serious", you're testing her reaction and hoping she doesn't push. There's no way you're going to tell how serious it is.

"C'mon, Santana, you can't be alone forever, you need someone to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself just fine, Mom, thank you", you don't mean to sound harsh, but you do.

"Can I least know his name?" She pushes and you're trapped. You have no idea how she's going to react and you don't want to know either.

There's only one thing you can do.

"I heard Dad's in town", you cut her off. "Is it true?"

You didn't hear the answer until your mother repeats it more firmly. "He is."

"Why?" You ask sharply, knowing it's not a good thing if he's staying that long.

"Can I call you back, Santana?" She's impatient like she can't wait to get rid of you.

You're not having any of that.

"What's going on? Why is he back?"

She's breathing heavily. "Look", she starts. "I'm not in position to tell you right now."

"The hell you aren't"

"Language", she warns. "I'm sure he'll come to you when it's time."

"But-"

"Enough, Santana."

You shrink. "I'm sorry."

"I said it before, I'll say it again: don't bring your work stress home. I won't tolerate that kind of behavior."

"I said I'm sorry", you say bluntly.

"Good. We'll talk soon", her voice is professional, like she's setting an appointment with a client. "Take care, sweetie."

"I will, Mom."

You hang up and keep staring at your phone. You have even less information and more to worry about. Great, just great, you think, walking your way to a quick shower, planning some takeout for dinner because you're not in the mood for cooking. Your phone rings again and you think your mother forgot to tell you something.

"What?" You hiss.

"If it's a bad time I can call you later."

"Britt! I'm sorry; I thought it was my mom. Shit, I'm really sorry. How are you?"

"Are you okay?" She says instead of answering.

You breathe heavily. "Yea, it wasn't my week so far, I think. But I'm you glad you called, I missed my girlfriend."

"I missed you too", you can hear the smile at her tone. "Wanna grab some dinner?"

"Actually", you start, suddenly shy of what you're going to say. "Can you come over? We can order some take out and watch a movie. It sounds pretty lame, but I'm tired to go out and I really wanted to see you."

You hear her… Bouncing? "It's not lame at all. I'll be right there."

She gets at your place 20 minutes later, and you're thankful she gave you enough time to shower and put yourself together. That doesn't mean you're not freaking out because it's her first time at your apartment.

She's your girlfriend, you shouldn't be this nervous, but you jump when you hear the door anyway.

"I brought Chinese", she says as you take the boxes off her hands and place them on the table. You turn around to give her a kiss and you didn't realize how much you missed her before it.

She kisses you back and you know she missed you just as much.

"Let's eat before I pass out on the couch", but you don't let her go or make any kind of move to get to the table.

"Are you that tired", she whispers on your ear, teasing you, and suddenly you're not tired at all. "Or you just want to drag me to the couch?"

"I'll drag you to the couch anyways", you ask honestly, making a trail of kisses on her jaw as you speak. "If you…"You kiss her softly, "…Don't mind."

"Oh, I don't mind", she smiles, lowering her hands on your waist dangerously. "In fact", her hand goes even lower and you gasp when they reach your ass and stop there, keeping you in place. She pulls you even closer and when she speaks again, it's a whisper against your mouth, a tease. "I like the way you think."

"L-let's eat, then", you stutter and she just shakes her head playfully.

* * *

You decide it wasn't a formal occasion to eat at the table, so Brittany took the food and moved to the couch, so you could watch the movie while eating. You take a while to discuss about the movie, and after almost 10 minutes, Brittany gives in and you put Avengers on.

"I'd never take you for a nerd", she says over your shoulder as you lay comfortably between her legs, her head resting easily on your shoulder, hands around your stomach. It's domestic and you love it.

"You can blame Sam. And Batwoman", you blush at the last part.

"Renée Montoya is pretty hot", Brittany deadpans.

"So you're a nerd too", you accuse, playful. "What a catch."

"I know a thing or two. My brother used to-", she stops herself shortly and you feel her getting tense.

You wonder why she never talks about her family, but you don't ask.

"Were you arguing with you mother on the phone?" She asks carefully, not sure if she's overstepping. You nod once. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"My father", you start, choosing words and convincing yourself Britt's worth telling it. "He's been away for quite some time", she listens carefully, keeping you closer. You lean further against her before you continue. "He went away right after the divorce, and we haven't heard about him for a couple of years. Two weeks ago Quinn called me and said her mom told her he was back in town."

"He came back to Lima after being years away?" Brittany asks and you nod again. "Why?"

"That's why I called my mother, I wanted to know."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing. She said he would tell me. Then I got mad, was kind of rude and we had a little fight."

"I'm sorry."

"I have a really bad temper sometimes", you release a breath, sounding a little more upset than you should. You crack a joke to light the mood. "But I'm sure you'll figure that sooner or later."

"I'm sure I can handle it", she winks and something about her tone makes you shiver.

You hardly pay attention to the movie while Brittany keeps teasing you and making you shiver all the time. You don't think she's nearly as nervous as you about the whole apartment thing, or she's hiding pretty well.

"Here, let me", you get up and grab the empty boxes. "I'll throw it away."

"Hm, no", she whines, adorably. "Come back and cuddle me!"

"Yes ma'am", you say, coming back to the couch, where Britt's laid with arms crossed and a pout. "Oh, c'mon, that's unfair", you lie down and let her spoon you.

"Hm, much better", she husks, biting your ear lobe softly. You gasp. Brittany seems delighted. "Are you okay, babe?"

If her tone doesn't set you off, the way she called you 'babe' does. You turn around to face her, of course there's a smirk on her face.

"Tease", you call softly, lower than a whisper.

"What?" She looks at your lips and back to your eyes, hands clasped around the small of your back.

"I said", you attack her neck and use your hand on her waist to pull you closer. You both gasp when your hips touch with a silent click. "You're a tease", you repeat, the word rolling on your tongue purposely.

"Am I?" She moves on the couch, trapping you under her with her knees on each side of your hips. You're dead. You're sure of it. She comes closer and you move your head to meet her halfway, but she doesn't let you, holding you in place with both hands on your shoulders.

Boy, that escalated quickly.

You can't breathe. She's looking at you almost curiously, measuring you, teasing you. Daring you.

She lowers herself again, lips on your ear. "Do you think I'm a tease, Santana?"

"I-I…" You're gone. Lost. Completely.

She chuckles above you. "You're just too cute", she jokes, looking away from you for a second.

You take her distraction to hold her neck and closing the distance catching her lips between yours. She smirks against your mouth and kisses you back, eagerly, hotly, like it's never enough.

"Finally", she whispers against your mouth.

"We're done talking", you flip her and you both almost fall out of the couch, but you manage.

You're sitting on her lap again, legs around her waist. She wastes no time and grabs your ass again, and you lean into her to catch her lips in a slow kiss and suddenly everything is so hot you're sure the room is on fire.

Not even that would make you stop.

"S-Santana", Brittany is breathless under you, tilting her head to the side as you attack her neck. "We need to-", your hands reach the hem of her shirt, going under it and touching the skin of her stomach. "I think we-", she tries again as you move faster, using your body to pull her further on the couch while grabbing both breasts and squeezing them delightfully. "Oh God", she moans.

There's too much clothing in the way, your hands are shaking and you think you're going to die anytime soon because it's too much when her nails are against the skin of your back under your shirt, sinking in like she wants to leave a mark. You think it's the best sensation ever.

That until your hips met in a thrust.

You can't find words. You're melting. You're dying. You're going to explode with want.

It happens again.

Brittany looks at you and her eyes are electric. And dark. Her lips are swollen and her hair is everywhere.

"You're so beautiful", she pants, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and pulling you closer.

"I want you so bad", you bite your lip and look at her, your eyes as dark as hers. "But that's…"

"I know."

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay", she whispers, lowering herself on the couch again and bringing you with her. "Take your time."

"Are you sure it's okay?" You sound shy when you ask.

"Yea", she breathes as you lean against her, loving the way her chest feels against yours. "That was pretty hot."

"_You_ are pretty hot", you say hoarsely in her ear, earning a shiver.

"Thought you said I was a tease", she says, playfully.

"You are", you catch her lips again, teasing her with the lip of your tongue before breaking the kiss. "But I really like when you tease."

"Stop talking."

You happily obey.

* * *

**N/A: Thank you for reading and following and stuff, you guys are amazing. Sorry bout the mistakes, btw. If you have time, let me know what you are thinking about the story.  
****See ya soon. ;)**


	5. Chapter 4: Ten Times Better

It's the first time you get to leave the hospital before it closes. You talk to Mrs. Reeds on your way out and she agrees to get everything set, so your professor won't be mad (just because of it, he'll be mad for _anything else _if you're evolved) and you'll be able to pick Brittany up in time for whatever she planned after.

You text her when you arrive at the building and she gives you the number of the room and asks you to get in. The dance building is a mystery for you and you find yourself lost at the second hallway.

"She's practicing with Chang again", you hear a voice saying in a secretive tone. "It's the third time this week, what is she doing?"

"You know Brittany", there's an answer, and you freeze in place when you hear the reference. "I mean, you don't, and that's the point. No one knows her."

"Oh, c'mon, I bet you know what's going on", the other girl pushes, and you're so uncomfortable you can't move. "I saw you guys talking more than once. Spill it out, are they a thing or what?"

Holy crap, you want to beat the shit out of her. Her tone makes you want to throw up, like she thinks it's a nasty idea or something.

"Mike has a girlfriend, I'm sure you remember her from that party at your place", the other girl's tone is cold and you find yourself relieved she's not into the conversation.

"What about Pierce? I never saw her around with anyone. Hell, I never saw her at a party, actually. Don't you think it's weird?"

"I wouldn't know, Lindsay! Maybe she's not into parties or something. What's with that fixation?" She sounds angry now, like someone's cornering her. It's awkward. "Brittany is nice, she gets along with people and everybody likes her, but she's not exactly an open book. Like I said, no one knows her. Who knows, maybe she has a boyfriend out of town or something. It's none of our business."

"I still think it's weird. She never talks. What is she hiding?"

"If you're craving the information that bad, why don't you ask her? I'm sure she won't be rude or anything."

"As if."

If they continue talking, you don't pay attention, 'cause you keep walking to the room you're supposed to be going to. You are clenching your fists so hard they're starting to hurt. You stop right in front of the door and take a deep breath. There's no need for that right now. Absolutely not. You knock.

"I'm sorry, we know it's late, we were just leaving, promise", you remember Mike from the concert that one time, but he doesn't remember you at all, it seems. You spot Brittany stretching on the back, with a sports bra and some yoga pants. You zone out for several seconds until you realize Mike is still staring at you. You clear your throat, and try to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"It's fine, I'm here for Brittany", you say, stepping inside unsurely. Mike closes the door behind you and you don't say that's a great thing because there are two annoying girls spying, because you think he knows.

Brittany finishes stretching and looks at you, sharing that warm smile that's just yours and you love it. You give her your secret lopsided smile and a wink, just to watch her blush like she always does.

"Mike", she calls, getting up and grabbing a hoodie. "This is Santana."

You grab his hand awkwardly when he offers, and you wonder how much he knows about you and Britt. The funny part is that you don't care at all.

"Well, finally", he says, answering your question. "Brittany's been talking nonstop about you lately."

"All good things, I hope", you say politely, sharing a look with your girlfriend. "It's nice to meet you", you finish with a smile.

He looks at Brittany before answering. "So charming", he says to her.

"Told ya", Britt answers with a shrug.

"Hm, Britt, can you deliver the room's key at the reception? Tina might kill me if we lose the reservations again and I'm already late."

The way he looks from you to her says he's not late at all.

"No problem", Brittany takes the keys and stands beside you, her hand touching yours softly enough to make you look. You look at Mike, as if deciding if he's good enough or not, and take her hand firmly.

"See you tomorrow, Britt. Nice to finally meet you, Santana", he stops by the door, pondering something. "We should go on a double date someday."

And if you were wondering about how much he knows, that pretty much answers the question.

* * *

"So, can I ask you why you're still at a classroom at like, almost 10 PM?" Brittany is just lying at the middle of the woody floor of the classroom, eyes closed. "Are you even listening?"

"Yea", she doesn't move. "Lay down here, too."

You hesitate. You walk closer to where she is, with her arms on the back of her head, looking at the ceiling now. She seems to understand why you hesitated, because she laughs like she thinks you're silly.

"The door is locked, Santana", there's a hint of amusement at her tone. "And it's not like that. I want to talk."

"Am I in trouble?" You joke, sitting down beside her. She rests her head on your tights and you play with her hair. You have this thing with being closer to her when you can, like you have to compensate the time you're not alone and you can't touch her so much. Brittany must feel it too, because she takes your free hand and plays with your fingers like it's the first time she sees them.

"Of course not", she kisses your knuckles. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, I guess", you switch positions, so you can lie on the floor too. Brittany settles with her head on your shoulder. It's incredibly distracting, because her stomach is bare and her hip keep touching yours. "Are you? You look nervous."

She laughs lightly. "You make me nervous", you just quirk an eyebrow, not knowing if she's serious or not. "I wanted to tell you something, that's why we're on the floor, actually."

"I'm not following, Britt."

"I'm not very smart", she starts, and you want to say that's not true, because she's the brightest person you've ever met, but she stops you with a peck. "Don't. I'm really not. When I was a kid, I was picked on all the time, because I used to ask and say things people couldn't understand. Everybody thought I had some kind of problem, except my dad. He used to say my brain had super speed and people were just not fast enough."

You look at her, mesmerized. There's this warm thing on your chest making you feel important somehow, because she never talks about herself in any way and you don't know exactly what has changed.

"Eventually I was so sad I couldn't talk anymore. I was like, the quietest 12 years old kid ever", you look at her and she's still looking at the ceiling, lost in memories. You tight your grip around her for her to notice you're listening. "My mother didn't even try to figure what was wrong. I don't even know if she noticed. One night, my father came back earlier from work and I was still up. He tried to talk to me, but I didn't answer, of course. He asked what was wrong, and my mom told him. I thought he was going to be mad."

"Did he?"

"No. He picked me up, took me to my room and we laid on the floor, like this", her voice is getting even lower; you come closer to hear her.

'_Britt, do you remember when you found that baby duck on our backyard and you took care of him?'_

I said I remembered.

'_When he got better, you wanted to keep him away from everybody, because people could hurt him again. What did I say to you?'_

'_I don't remember…'_

'_I said you couldn't hide the baby duck away from his family, it's where he belonged and they'd take care of him and make him happy in a way he couldn't be here. You know, Britt, you can't just do that when you have a problem, you have to face it.'_

'_But I'm not hiding anywhere.' _

'_You are, baby girl. Inside. It's like you're a little safe and you locked up with the key inside. Do you understand what I'm saying?'_

'_Not really.'_

'_Your mom said you're not talking for days.'_

'_Every time I open my mouth, something stupid comes out. Everybody laughs.'_

I remember his face when I said that. His mouth was opening and closing like he was a fish. He couldn't blame me for not wanting to talk, I had a good reason.

'_Let me explain you something. Some people are really mean. You know that already. But you can't think everybody's the same. More than that, you can't hide away from the world. There are people out there, people who would love to hear you talk, answer your questions. People who would never laugh or make fun of you. You have to give them an opportunity to show you they're good.'_

'_How will I know if can believe them?'_

'_I'll tell you how. Lay on the floor with them, and tell them a story. Something meaningful for you, but not a secret. Good people will understand and feel grateful for that little piece of you that you're sharing with them.'_

'_What if they're bad people? What if I'm wrong and they let me down?'_

'_Then you're already on the floor, you just have to get up and start over.'_"

You are speechless. She's looking at you and you can see she's scared of what you might think, and you want more than anything to tell her she doesn't need to be. It's like something inside of you is breaking and growing again, twice as big and a million times stronger. You keep waiting for some explanation, speech, or anything like that, but Brittany remains silent, her hand around your shoulder and another across your stomach. She lowers her head slightly to put her ear on your chest.

She knows your heart is beating crazy fast for more than one reason.

"It's like stray cats, sometimes", she wonders. "You can feed them, but you'll never know if they'll stick around. You can lose the food you gave and never see the cat again, or you can have a new friend for the rest of your life", she sighs and shakes her head in that way she always does when she's trying not to speak about something. "But no matter what happens, you'll lose the food."

You don't know what to say. Brittany seems to be on the edge with something, like she's making a risky bet. The pieces are messed on your mind, and you're trying not to think about what you've just heard on the hallway.

'_She never talks'_

But she's talking. She's telling you a family story. Suddenly it feels like a really tough question she wants you to figure out. And she's giving you hints.

She wants you to know her. In a way people don't.

"Oh my God", you say under your breath when you realize how amazing this is and how it makes you feel good in a way you've never felt. You think about all the times people said you don't deserve to be where you are or to do what you do. She's giving you a chance. She thinks you deserve this chance. She believes in you. It's too much. "Britt-", you can't barely speak with a knot on your throat.

She smiles a different smile this time. It says 'you got it'. She kisses just below your ear, letting it linger. "Do you want to leave?"

You run your fingers through her hair slowly. "Only if you want to."

"We kinda have to", she lifts her head just enough to meet your eyes. "I still have to take you on a date as I promised."

You blink twice. "That's not the date you planned?" _'But you just gave me everything.'_

She gets off you and offers you a hand to stand up. You take her hand and she spins you gracefully, like she's leading a dance. You let her, trying to follow as you can.

"It's the start of it", she winks at you and guides you to the parking lot.

* * *

Britt gives you directions until you stop at her place, giving her a confused look. She doesn't say anything and you don't ask, following her around as you take the elevator. Her hand is shaking and she seems nervous in a way you haven't seen yet. It's good nerves, you think.

"Do you need to change before we-", the question dies halfway because she just took her hoodie off and you forgot what you were going to say.

"Do you want a beer? I just need to take a shower and then I'll cook us some dinner", she says, oblivious to your drooling and breathing problem.

"N-no problem", you manage to say, taking the beer she puts in your hand with a dumb nod. "We'll just stay here, then?"

"Is that okay?" She scrunches her nose adorably and pokes your nose playfully. "I wanted to do something special. Plus, people", she adds, in a shy tone.

"We have to stop worrying about people, Britt", you surprise yourself by saying that. "I mean, we're going slow, not hiding."

Her smile is as warm as her body when she evolves you in a hug. "I know", she kisses you lightly. "Tonight is not about people. But it's good to know we're on the same page", she kisses you again, longer this time. "I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable."

It's normal to feel a little uneasy, isn't it? Except you're not. You're not even nervous this time. Her sofa is really comfortable; the place has something that makes you feel cozy, like you've been visiting for years. The thought makes you smile and you know that's something you're looking forward to do.

Or maybe something else, but thinking about that is still scary for you.

You walk around because patience is not your best virtue. Britt's not crazy OCD organized, but she's not messy either. There wouldn't be fights because her clothes are everywhere and you-

Shit. Your thoughts.

You stop yourself just in time to spot a family photo. Brittany looks like her mom, but her eyes are just as blue as her father's. You look closely at the five Pierces at the photo, noticing a little girl Brittany hasn't mentioned. She looked like a mini Britt on her father's shoulder. Brittany stood right beside her father, hugging him and pressing her cheek on his shoulder, her smile lighting the whole picture. Her mother and brother stood awkwardly at the opposite side, Matt with sunglasses and an unreadable expression and Mrs. Pierce with a small smile, looking at her youngest daughter.

"Are you asleep already?" Britt's voice says in the hallway.

"More like starving to death", you call back with a fake sigh.

"Oh, then it's fine", she jokes easily, taking your hand and taking you to the kitchen, stopping by the freezer to get you another beer and one for herself. "Hope you don't mind, I can't follow recipes."

"That's not… Pre-requirement for cooking or something?"

"It is, I think. But I really can't follow written instructions, it's confusing, everything gets messed when I try to read, especially when I'm nervous and-", she stops shortly and shakes her head, grabbing a couple of ingredients. "But I can memorize movements just fine. I used to watch my dad while he cooked on the weekends, and I learned some recipes because I remembered the things he did."

"You're all kinds of brilliant, Britt", you hug her from behind and give her a kiss on the curve of her neck. She shivers.

"I'm pretty sure you said that already", she tilts her head to give you more room.

"And I'll keep saying", you continue with your kiss assault, punctuating every word with a kiss or a little bite. "Until you believe it."

"I don't want to be rude", her breathing is a little unstable. "But it's hard to focus", you lift her shirt just a little so you can touch her abs. "When you", you put her hair to the side and keep assaulting her neck shamelessly. "Keep making out", you bite her earlobe and you swear you hear her cursing under her breath. "With my neck."

"I meant when I said I was starving", you husk on her ear.

"Santana."

You put your hands up in defeat and let her go. "Okay, geez, Britt", you're pouting. "No kitchen fantasies then?"

She turns to look at you, amused. "Oh, are we having fantasies now?"

You shrug. "It keeps coming up. Can't help it", she slaps your shoulder lightly. "Okay, what's gonna be, you gorgeous chef?"

"How do you feel about some Italian? There's the legendary Pierce-Alfredo Sauce recipe, goes just fine with noodles."

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

"Okay, you can seriously cook", you say after your third plate.

"C'mon."

"Hm, I mean it", you grab a napkin. "I'll just keep you in my basement and you'll cook for me forever."

She tilts her head. "Is that another kitchen fantasy?"

"Maybe."

The night goes like a blur. You feel some sort of happiness you've never felt and it makes you numb and hyper aware in a weird way. Brittany's apartment is familiar and warm and you feel like you'll do those casual things – cooking, doing the dishes together and cuddling on the sofa – for a very long time. You feel like… Setting down.

"Do you want to talk about what happened last week?" She said out of nowhere, apparently.

You look up to meet her eyes. "What happened last week?"

"You know. The awkward we-were-almost-having-sex-then-we-stopped thing", she deadpans, making you blush. Sex never made you blush before.

Well, meaningless sex never did. This is different.

"Oh my _God_, Britt", you look down, embarrassed. "Do _you_ want to talk about it?"

"Will it be like, super weird and we won't be able to look each other in the eye for a really long time?" She studies you for a moment, reading your expression.

You know why you're nervous. There's this urge to make everything in the right way, in the perfect way, because it'll be so meaningful for you – for both of you, actually – for so many reasons (you can't explain half of them, but you know they exist)… You can't mess this up. You just can't. It's like having the chance of doing everything you did wrong again, getting it right this time. And you don't even know why you're feeling like this.

"Let me tell you something, Santana", Brittany starts, pulling you up so you can sit between her legs and look at her. "You know I like you, right? Like… I really like you", you nod. "You mean something to me. And every little thing we do together means something as well, because I'm doing it with you. Do you understand?" You nod again. You can't do anything else, you feel like she's hypnotizing you. "So, I want you to feel just the way I do, you know? That's why I'm totally fine with waiting. And it's not just about sex, it's about everything. I'll wait for you because I want everything to be special for both of us, at the same time. And if you don't want to do something, then we won't do it. I won't be mad, I'd never be mad with you. That's… Not even possible, I think. It's like, fighting a baby panda. You just don't, it's wrong. And I'm rambling, I'll stop now."

She looks down at the end, and you notice her ears turning into a deep shade of red. You lift her chin and it's right there, the things she's not saying. You want her to know how amazing she really is, how much you care, how you're about to turn your own life upside down because of her, and how you thought you'd never had guts to do it, but now you want to. You need to. And you will.

Suddenly you know what has changed.

"You're silly, Britt", you kiss her, hard. "How can you even think I'd say no to you?" She reaches for your cheek, caressing it with her thumb. Are you crying? "You told me a story on the floor, I mean, damn", you smile and kiss her again, feeling like a wall inside you just came down. "I'll take… I'll take every chance you give me. I want to hear all your stories. All your questions. Everything about you. Just… Damn, Britt, how can you-"

You stop when your eyes meet. It's that moment in the movies again, and you want to laugh and cry at the same time because it's so cheesy and cliché, but so damn overwhelming at the same time. Her hand is still on your cheek, and you cover it with yours just like the first time you kissed.

"It's happening, isn't it?" You whisper, resting your foreheads together.

"It is", she nods.

"There's so much I don't-", you stop shortly, unsure. You want to say there are so many things you don't know about her, and so many things you have to tell her. You want to freak out because it's been just a couple of months and things happening this fast wasn't the plan at all, but hell, can you plan stuff like that anyway?

"We'll be fine", she assures you with a nod, the sound of her voice melting in your ears. "If you want to, we will."

You don't think there's something you want more than that.

When she finally kisses you, you half expect the fireworks people always talk about, but then you remember that it has happened before. The fireworks are there since the first time, you just couldn't hear it because your head was buzzing so much with confusion and fear. The sensation is totally different, even though you've kissed many times before, this is… It. She holds your face like she's trying to memorize every inch, her lips caressing yours are not in a rush and not slow either, and when your tongue meet hers with practiced rhythm you don't know what you're going to do with all the things you're feeling. There's no rush, or any kind of urge to take clothes off; there's barely no lust at all. Britt just keeps pulling you closer and closer, and it's attacking all your senses at once. Like she's everywhere and it's all you can hear, taste, see, touch, breath.

You want this feeling all the time. All the freaking time.

She stops because oxygen is a problem. Her head is resting on the couch and she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and helping you to adjust yourself on a comfortable position above her. You finally set your head half on her chest, half on the curve of her neck, body fully pressed against hers, trying not to put your weight on her. You feel her heart hammering against your ribcage and yours is not doing so differently. She puts one hand on the small of your back, lifting her shirt just a bit so she can touch your skin. You sigh when she does that and you feel her smiling. The other hand finds your hair, massaging your scalp lightly, like a silent lullaby.

It stays like that. Silence, the movement of her chest while she breathes in sync with yours, her breathing on your neck barely keeping you awake. It feels like everything is blurry around you except her, holding you like nothing can ever harm you again.

"Britt."

"Hm?"

"Thank you", it's so meaningful when you say that you feel a bit light-headed. Brittany looks at you with wide eyes and a curious expression, and then she laughs lightly and lowers her head to kiss you again, biting your lower lip and smiling against it.

"You're even more charming when you're sleepy."

"I try."

The last thing you hear her whispering is a melody you don't recognize. Then you feel her lips softly on the top of your head and you drift to sleep with the sound of her breathing.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for my delay to update, college got me busy. Anyways, hope you like this chapter, sorry for my mistakes and thank you for reading and sticking around.  
**

**I made a tumblr: tripper-md (you know the rest. I can't post here for some weird reason, though); you can follow me there and we can, idk, talk, or something.**

**Next update will be faster, promise. See you guys soon. :)**


	6. Chapter 5: Be Still

**A/N: Aaaaand we're back, ladies and gentlemen :) I'm so sorry about the HUGE delay. Real life happens. Anyway, good to be back, let's go on with the story.**

* * *

Damn, you phone is loud. You growl and shift in your sleep, eyes still closed. What's with people and calling you at dawn on weekends anyway?

You search blindly for the speak button, too sleepy to formulate words. You make a noise to let the other person know you're listening. There's a laughing sound.

"Rise and shine, bitch", another noise. "Yeah, okay, you don't need to talk if you don't want to. Just sneak me in, won't you?"

"What the fuck, Fabray?" You manage to say, confused, rubbing your eyes.

"Are you hangover or something?"

"Got home late last night", you mumble, even though you won't be able to explain that you crashed on Brittany's couch with her and woke up like, 3AM or something to get back home. "Why are you even-"

"Good Lord, I forgot you get dumb before noon", she scoffs. "Just let me in, I'm outside."

"You can't be outside, your place is at the other side of the country", you growl again. "Plus, you don't know where I live."

"Rachel is visiting her parents in LA for a few days, I came along", she explains patiently, sighing. "Sam gave me your address. C'mon, just wake the hell up and open the door already."

Your mind clicks.

"You're seriously here", you snap, going to a sitting position in seconds, your voice raspy.

"Don't tell me", her voice is bored, but you hear the smile behind it. "And I hope you're decent, because Brittany is here, too."

"WHAT?"

"Yea, life is funny. I was at Starbucks with Rach and Sam and she came over. Then I invited her to your house. I know you don't mind."

At this point you're already putting some jeans on and looking for a shirt on your closet, checking the mirror just to find out your hair is a mess. You curse under your breath when you trip over a pile of dirty clothes.

"You've got-", you trip again. "Shit. You've got to be kidding!"

Quinn laughs soundly on the other side. "I am. But now that you're already up, open the door."

"I hate you."

"Yea, yea, fine. As long as you let me in, you can hate me all you want."

* * *

You didn't realized you much you missed your best friend until she's standing at your door with an amused smile and several bags in hand. She looks happy, but a different kind of happiness, you think; you don't think you've ever seen her like this.

"That's not 'few days' baggage, Q", you joke, helping her organizing the bags on the floor. You notice there's a figure still at your doorstep seconds later. You smile. "Well, you must be Rachel Berry. I'll just assume you know all about me already, I hate introductions. It's nice to meet you, even though Quinn is making my ears bleed from talking too much about you."

"Oh so lovely, Satan", Quinn deadpans, throwing herself on your coach. Rachel steps in unsurely and closes the door, offering you a shy smile. "Come here, honey, she won't bite you", she looks at you and quirk an eyebrow. "At least she didn't use to."

"Quinn, that's mean", her voice is playful and concerned. "Don't be rude or she'll change her mind about letting you stay."

You blink slowly. "_'Letting you stay?'_ Quinn?"

Quinn shifts uncomfortably on the couch, smiling apologetic at you and shrugging. "Just for a couple of days. Rach is going to LA and I'll stay around, because…"

"She's refusing to meet my parents", Rachel finishes, sitting beside her girlfriend. "Personally, I think you're being irrational about that matter, Quinn. Meeting parents is an important part of any relationship, and you have the perfect opportunity to-"

"Rachel!" Quinn spats, looking worried to Santana before starting again, with a softer tone. "We talked about that. Another time, okay? You said you were okay with it."

You looked at the interaction with curious eyes. Suddenly you have so many questions. Is it hard, to let people know? What do they say? Are they mean sometimes? How do you deal with it? Quinn used to be so scared about everything, it's weird to see her so open about something like that. They're snuggling on your couch now, Rachel is taking something off Quinn's cardigan, and they look so in love you want to laugh and mock at them, but at the same time you get a sting on your chest and have to look away from it.

"You can stay", you breathe, because you could talk to Quinn about a thing or two. "I mean, of course I'll cover your coward ass, Fabray", your tone is playful, but you see Quinn deflate a little when you say coward, even though she's smiling. Old habits die hard. "You are welcome to stay as well, Rachel."

"Oh, look at you, so nice", Quinn teases. "Brittany has domesticated you alre-", she stops shortly, cover her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide.

Rachel looks at you curiously, because apparently Quinn hasn't told her everything about you. You feel yourself blushing and fidgeting with the thought of telling someone you don't really know you – even though she won't judge – that you have a girlfriend and all the things that come along with the confession.

"I didn't mean to, you know", Quinn mumbles.

You blink twice. "She doesn't know I have a girlfriend?"

Rachel smiles brightly at you. "I suppose you're not very comfortable with your lady lover status, yet, Santana, but yes, from the phone calls I've heard – not on purpose, of course – I happen to know about your little issues with that matter, and I ask you not to be afraid of it, it's a wonderful part of who you are and I'm glad we can share this."

"She doesn't breathe when she talks. God", you deadpan, looking at Quinn, who shrugs apologetic. You turn to Rachel. "And ahn, thank you, Rachel, for your… Speech", you look everywhere to change the subject, until your stomach makes a loud noise. "Wanna grab lunch?"

Quinn shots you a devilish grin. "No plans with Brittany today?"

You tilt your head. "I don't know, but she didn't say anything yesterday", you try to search in your mind for something she might have said before and after you woke up wrapped in each other arms on her couch. The thought makes you smile. Quinn is laughing at your expression, it seems.

"Call her. Tell her you're going to pick her up for lunch", her tone is bossy and it looks like she's teasing, but she gives you a firm nod and her eyes says something else. "It's about time you get your girlfriend out that cave where you two are hiding."

She's not stupid; she knows it's a big step. And you know she's just saying that because they'll be there for you and Brittany is something weird comes up. Suddenly you feel like she's tutoring you and that feels funny. How To Be Gay 101. You grab your phone.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Quinn made me call", you say instead of greeting. Brittany just laughs on the other side and God, you love the sound. "Hey there."

"_Hello beautiful"_, she says softly.

"Put her on the speaker!" Quinn half shouts from the couch.

"Bite me", you reply, turning around to the kitchen. "No, not you, Britt", you low your tone a little. "I mean…"

"_Maybe later, huh?"_

"Q-Quinn wants you to have lunch with us. I know we went out yesterday, but… Can I pick you up?"

"_Are we going to be around people now?"_

You take a deep breath, knowing what she's asking. "It'll be fun, promise", you answer both questions like that.

"_You don't have to convince me"_, she chuckles. _"It's not like I'm not missing you anyway."_

"Cheesy", you tease. "But I am, too. You have ten minutes."

"_Okay, bye."_

"You're just too cute."

You roll your eyes. "Yea, sure", you feel your cheeks heating. Damn. "I have to get ready. Make yourself at home. No, scratch that, or you'll have sex on my couch. That is not gonna happen."

Quinn doesn't miss a beat. "You're _rambling_, Santana. Jeez, anxious much?"

"Go to hell", you mumble before closing the bedroom door.

She has no idea.

* * *

You come up to Brittany's apartment because she asked you to, and it's a weird sensation. Suddenly you are hyper-aware of every single neighbor she has and what they'll think if they knew you're picking her up for a double date with two of your friends – also girls, who date each other, like you and Brittany date, yea.

When your phone rings, you almost can't pick it up, because you were startled for a moment. You see Brittany's name on the screen and pick up immediately.

"I'm going up, Britt", your tone is lower than usually, an unconscious fear of someone eavesdropping.

"_Just making sure you still know the way, you're taking forever!"_

"Traffic, baby. I'll be there in less than 5, okay?"

"_You better, I'm getting hungry."_

"Yea, I bet. Alright, talk to you soon. Bye."

Something bumps into you and you're so immersed on thoughts of being caught – doing what? – that you almost miss your name being called. You don't know why you're acting like a criminal, it's not like you've never been here before.

"Hey Santana!" You hear again, and turn your head slowly just to be greeted with your worst fear.

"Sebastian", you nod shortly, with full intention of walking away as soon as you can. It's been a long time since you don't see him, – since you turned him down to your professor because he stole supplies from the hospital's pharmacy and trying to sell it – and the way he's smiling at you right now is kinda unsettling, you don't know if he knows it was you. "Long time no see."

"Yea, I'm a little behind on schedule now, you know how things are", he looks at you from head to toe.

"Is that so?"

"Looking nice", he cuts the subject and offers you a grin. "What's the occasion?"

"Quinn's visiting", you reply, smiling politely. "I'm sure you remember her."

He presses on. "Didn't know you lived at the building."

You freeze. "I, hm, I don't. I'm picking up-", _please don't start stuttering, please…_

"Brittany", he smiles like he has caught you. And he did, he's looking at the package you were trying to hide behind your back. "Her brother is an old friend."

Of course.

He goes on. "Flowers? And they say chivalry is dead."

Fuck. A thousand times. Fuck.

You laugh with no humor at all. "It's not-"

He seems amused about seeing you this nervous. "My mother taught me to pick up my dates, you know? Like a _boy_ should. Being a nice guy, compliment, to be on schedule. Flowers."

This time you want to laugh for real, because he is almost as gay as you are, but it's suicide if you say that out loud. You just nod and smile again, looking at your cellphone to check the time.

"I'd love to talk, but I'm already late. See you at the hospital, I suppose."

"Oh, that's a cruel joke", he fakes a pout. "I would tell you a funny story about a guy expelled from med school, but I think you know that one by heart already. Nice job."

You freeze in place. It's possible to hear a needle dropping on the floor.

"It's very brave of you, you know", he steps forward, walking around you. "Being all open like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Picking Brittany up, bringing flowers… I'd say… So charming."

"T-that's not-"

"Santana Lopez, are you stuttering?" He laughs and stops short right behind you. "You know, I'd love to know what happened with the bitchy version of yourself. I guess you have… A lot to lose now."

Your legs are shaking.

"How's the work at the hospital? The clinic? I heard you're doing well now. Making everybody proud, huh? Who's daddy little girl?" He pokes your cheek and you snap his hand.

"Knock it off, Smythe. You got what you deserved. The. End. Now leave me alone, or-"

"Or what, Lopez? Huh? You're the one who should watch your steps."

"Is that a threat?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Apparently I know something about you that you don't want to… spread. Am I right?"

"That wouldn't take you anywhere", your voice is nothing but a grunt.

"You really don't know how stuff works, do you? It's a bad, bad world, Santana. And unfortunately, being gay nowadays is not as easy as they show on tv. Think about it. Think about how they're going to react at the hospital. At the clinic. The professors. Your patients. _Your family._"

"You can't prove-"

"All I'm saying is: don't make mistakes. I'll be watching. As soon as you know, you'll be so deep down in shit that even your dad won't be able to help you. I bet he wouldn't anyway, if he knew the toys you've been playing with", he nods toward the flowers and smiles. "See you around."

You don't even know how you got to the elevator and pressed the number of Brittany's floor.

* * *

She's at the hallway waiting for you with that smile that makes you forget about everything else. You try not to look as worried as you are as you offer the flowers behind your back for her. Her smile grows and she takes them.

"You're really cute, you know that?" She blushes and it's the most adorable thing.

"I try", you whisper as you put your hands around her waist, kissing the corner of her mouth. You hope she doesn't notice you're shaking.

She does.

"What's wrong?" You see her moving her head, searching. "Come inside."

She closes the door behind you and waits. You're still shaking.

"Well?"

"Do you know Sebastian Smythe?" You blurt. "I didn't know he lived here."

"He and Matt used to hang out, but it's been a while", she shrugs, and pats the sit beside hers at the couch, where you sit and let her wrap you, your back against her chest. "Breathe, Santana. You're scaring me."

"He was my classmate", you start, wishing you weren't shaking as much as you are.

"Was?"

"Some doctors noticed that the pharmacy supply at the hospital were decreasing fast", Brittany nodded, holding one of your hands to stop it from shaking, caressing it with her thumb. It makes you relax a little. "Sebastian and I, we always had this weird competition between us, since high school. He said I was using my father to get into places", you scoff. "Of course he wasn't the only one who thought that, but he said out loud more than once. I got angry, of course, because it's not true at all, but I didn't do anything, it was pointless."

"You never told me about your father", she whispers against your hair, just above your ear.

"It's not important", you shrug. "Anyway, one day I caught him selling some pills to a bunch of addicted guys at school. I wanted to turn him down on the spot."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't. I called him, in private, and told him that I knew and that he should stop. He looked so scared that I thought for a second that he would. He said so and I believed him", you don't know if you're crying, but when you feel Brittany's hand on your cheeks, it's wet. "But then he tried to plant evidence in my stuff. I saw him talking about some of the guys he was selling pills about it. Then I turned him down and they kicked him out. It wasn't about revenge, I swear."

"I understand", she turns you and you see concern on her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Santana."

You scoff. "He saw the flowers. He knows about me. About us. And I don't know if he can use it, or how… Hell, I don't know if something might change if anyone find out, but he said... I think he can do something with it, and I don't know if I want to know what it'll be."

Brittany frowns and bites her lower lip, running one hand through her hair and releasing a breath. "Okay", she says. "Do you remember what I said about this being about you, right?" You nod. "I… I don't want to be trouble for you", you open your mouth to protest. "Shh. Listen. There's no way he's using this – us – to blackmail you or anything like that", she holds your face with both hands. "Trust me on this one."

"I really do, Britt", you reply with a shrug. "I just don't-"

"Your fears are yours and yours alone. No one can put them against you", you can't explain why you're scared now. It's not like you haven't thought about it before. But seeing Sebastian and knowing what he can do was like a reality push. "You're not worse because of it. You're just as amazing, if not more. You're going to be the best doctor of the world and it's so unfair if someone is making you doubt that. _So_ unfair."

Your phone starts ringing. You don't know how long you two are talking, but Quinn must be pissed, she hates waiting. That makes you think about what you're about to do. Being around people. PDA. You're not so sure.

"Hey Quinn", Brittany takes your phone before you can think. "It's Brittany. Yea, she's fine. Actually, can you come over? We have a… Situation here. No, it's nothing serious. I mean… Just come over and I'll explain everything. I'll text you the address, okay? Right, bye."

Brittany is still looking at you, her lips pressed in a thin line.

"What are you-"

"We're not doing this", she says, adamant. "I'm not putting your head on the line like this. We still have a bunch of things to figure out, we need time. I'm giving us time", she sounds so worried and serious that the intensity of it makes you a little uncomfortable. "Quinn's coming over, we'll eat here and have our double date, okay? I don't want you to worry."

* * *

"Okay, I can see how that could be a problem", you're all sitting on Britt's living room while Quinn paces around so fast that you're starting to feel dizzy. "But I can't see how that _is_ a problem for you right now, Santana."

You just wait. Quinn has this annoying habit of start explaining stuff and stopping short 'for effect'. You trust her logic as you trust a few other things, because it got you out of trouble several times in high school. You hope it'll do the same this time.

"Sebastian was expelled for a crime. He's out of med school", she continues, and you keep looking at her waiting for some new information. "And you are still there, doing a good job, as far as I know."

You nod, but still don't get.

"Personally, I understand your fear, considering the whole scenario. But you must consider that his influence is not exactly outstanding comparing to yours", she nods to herself, seeming satisfied with her point.

"She's right, Santana", Brittany bumps your shoulder with hers. "It's his word against yours, and he's not selling confidence around, as far as we know."

You don't know if she's right, and you don't say so. You can't find yourself calming down. Sebastian knows people, and he has a way around them you certainly don't. Your father always said that was the key to succeed, knowing people, what to say, how to say. If you wanna go somewhere, you must ask the right questions to the right people. Sebastian knew all that and he used the tools really well while he could. You're not so sure about yourself in this aspect.

"I suppose", you say with a shrug, "Sebastian is so good dealing with people it's scary. I can tell he had a good influence there before the whole expelling thing. Even if he doesn't have it anymore…" you stop short and take a deep breath. "It's not hard to get evidence to prove his point. The opposite, though…"

"I don't believe it's a wise decision to hide in fear, Santana, if I may take part on this discussion. That might be exactly his plan, and once you cope with that, he'll have the evidence he needs to succeed in exposing you."

Rachel has a point, but how can you act cool when there's a douche trying to fuck up your life and career once you make a mistake?

"You know what? It's okay. Let's not overheat your brains trying to think about something that might not happen. I'm sure he was just saying bullshit trying to scare me", you put your best brave face and snake your arm around Brittany's shoulder.

Quinn's expression changes to a grin. "I say we continue our bonding time", she turns to Brittany. "So, Brittany, Satan here has been keeping me in the dark about you. Tell us a bit about yourself."

You see Brittany shrinking a bit near you. "Uh, I'm majoring in dance at Berkeley, I have an older brother, my parents live in Arizona, I grew up there", she shrugs. "Not much to tell."

"Dance? That's nice. Santana and I used to be cheerleaders in high school", your face drops. That was not supposed to come up in conversations. It's not that you're ashamed or whatever, just… Not a good idea. Quinn goes on, excited. "We ruled the school. Top bitches, really. Everyone worshiped us."

You fake a laugh. "I'm sure it wasn't exactly like that, Q…"

"Oh, seriously. This one?" She points you. "Freshmen worst nightmare."

Brittany's smile is weird when she pokes you. "Is that so?"

"It's not like I actually did anything", you shrug. "Just a little terrorism. At the time, we thought it was fun. No one ever got hurt", you give Quinn a glare, but she doesn't seem to get. "Quinn was the real nightmare, to be honest."

"Oh, good times", Quinn laughs. "So, Brittany, how about your high school? I'm sure you kicked some ass at your cheerleading squad."

Now Brittany looked visibly uncomfortable.

"No cheerleading squad", she said, in a neutral tone. Santana discovered too late that it was the wrong subject to talk about. "Even though my brother was the football superstar, I just… It wasn't for me."

Quinn's face fell for a second, but she recovered in record time. "I'm sure it was their loss. Santana said you're gorgeous when you dance."

Brittany's eyes get brighter when she looks at you. "Did she?" She asks, looking at you with a playful smile.

You smile back, dying to release the tension Quinn built asking about her past (even though you're dying to know why she avoids it so much). "It's true."

"Ugh, you guys are disgustingly cute", Quinn replies, just to get a shoulder bump from Rachel. "What? They are!"

"Let them be. I can think of several occasions in which you were disgustingly cute as well, sweetie."

"Ooooh Rachel, do tell!"

"Ooooh Rachel, do not tell!" Quinn makes a perfect imitation of your voice as she gets up. "See, we gotta go. Rachel and I didn't separate our bags, to I need to put my stuff at your place so she can pack to travel."

"Are you sure you don't wanna go, because-"

"YES, I'M SURE! I mean, Rach, honey, we talked. Another time. Okay? You promised."

You and Brittany start giggling, and you realize you'd do the same Quinn is doing if you were her. You probably _will _do the same when your turn comes. With that thought, you stop laughing.

"Here, grab my keys. I'll stay around for a little bit", you see Quinn's smile as she reaches the door. "And Quinn, my room is off limits, you disgusting person."

You think you hear her saying 'we'll see', but she closes the door before you can reply anything.

* * *

Once you're alone, you spend time in silence. It's something you both like doing, especially after sharing that much information with Quinn and Rachel. Brittany breaks the silence first, her hands clasped tightly around your stomach, as she rests her chin on the top of your head.

"Are you curious?"

"About earlier?" You feel her nodding. "I suppose you'll tell me eventually."

"But are you?"

You snuggle closer. "Maybe a little."

"Let's just say that… School didn't work for me."

"Because people are jerks and you got picked up, right…?" You try to follow.

Brittany sighs. "Not just that. My grades, I… I couldn't learn. I was incapable to learn anything using their regular process of teaching."

"That's why you didn't manage to get in the cheerleading squad", you blink. "Damn, Britt, I'm sorry."

"I'm not", she smiles sadly. "The girls were bad and the fact I am my brother's sister would make it even worse even if I managed. Plus, I didn't need it to get in college, anyway, so."

"What do you mean, about your brother?"

Her body tenses. "Nothing", she says a little too fast. "It's just a lot of pressure, since he was the quarterback, the superstar, perfect grades, early admission and stuff."

You hear 'head cheerleader, perfect grades and early admission' when she speaks, but you don't show any trace of reaction, you just feel bad.

"I'm sorry. I kinda know how it is", _yea, but not your side of the story_.

She shrugs. "I got over it. After my dad helped me finishing high school, things got better", she plays with your hair. "Of course there's the whole home schooled thing, but since no one knows about it, they can't say anything."

"Home schooled?" You blurt. She stops short like you got her. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine", she takes a deep breathe. "I can talk about it."

You smile sadly. "Wanna sit on the floor? Maybe it'll help?"

"Sure."

You get up and take her with you to the floor. Her eyes look guarded and careful, like she's about to tell you something really important. You feel tense because of it, but you don't say anything. She sits in front of you and grabs your hand, looking down at it as she speaks.

"I managed high school just fine until the end of sophomore year. On the summer before my junior year… Something happened", you nod for her to continue. "And my family kinda… Broke."

"Money or…"

"No, we just… Broke. We didn't look like a family anymore, because of what happened", you nod again, knowing exactly the feel, but not daring to ask what was it. "It was… The worst year of my life. And I failed. I couldn't learn, my brother refused to help, my dad was busy taking care of… Stuff, and my mom thought I was hopeless."

You honestly don't know how she managed to tell that without a single tear. Her expression was totally blank.

"When I failed, they tried to change schools. I couldn't handle another school. Mom thought that nothing could be done. Then she gave up. Stop caring. At this point dad decided to help me, that's when he started teaching me at home. He did it for two years, so I could finish high school. And so I did."

You don't know what to say. You feel angry, sad and relieved all at once.

"Damn, Britt, I'm so sorry", there's so much you want to say, but you can't bring yourself to speak. You look at the hard expression she has now and you just want to hug her and punch her mother, and thank her father, and… "What about your mother? Are you guys okay?"

"I understood her behavior. After all that happened, I… I just asked too much. It's the worst feeling ever, to fail. But to fail as a parent, that's something I can't even imagine. And she thought she was a failure, when I was a failure. That was killing me. When I got accepted, one year late, I felt like things were changing, you know? Like everything was going back to place. She came around and I forgave her, because I knew that, somehow, it was my fault."

"But she let you down, Britt. When you needed the most. That's so… I don't understand how a parent could do something like that."

"I let her down, too. More than once", Brittany shrugs, as she squeezes your hand. "But she forgave me too, didn't she?"

"Because you're her daughter, that's what parents do."

"And she's my mother, that's what daughters do."

You try hard not to cry and she notices. She just pulls you closer and your lips meet softly. You let her, your body sinking slowly as she holds you still. You don't realize you're shaking until she holds your shoulder and whispers for you to relax.

You think about your father and immediately you understand how she felt. And you understand less and less how Brittany could forgive her mother. Because you're not sure you'd ever forgive your father.

* * *

All you hear is a sharp breath. The next thing you see is Brittany, waking up and stretching. You don't realize how long you two were asleep. You still feel dizzy when Brittany holds you closer and start dozing off again. You go with her until you hear a loud noise of something heavy being dropped on the floor.

You see a few boxes on the floor. Then you move your eyes up and see an old Berkeley shirt and messy blonde hair.

Shit.

"Hey Britt, mom asked me to drop by because you forgot some boxes-", you see Matt turning around slowly, and Britt is not waking up and moving at a decent pace so you won't be-

"Oh. Hi Santana", he smiles brightly at you, snuggling on the floor on his sister's lap. "What a surprise."


End file.
